Vengeance
by skca54
Summary: In mid-December 2015, Vengeance was formed and funded indirectly by MI5 as an off-the-books and ultimately deniable asset which could be used to 'remove' those who demonstrated a great threat to the realm. HMG, in turn, would turn a Nelsonic blind eye towards Vengeance's other, more Fusion related, vigilante actions. Part of my Fusion Universe.
1. Vengeance

**Authors Note:** _This will be my twenty-eighth (published) story. The story is part of my Kick-Ass_ **Forsaken** _universe and will use characters and events from that story. The story fits in, chronologically, after the end of_ **The Fusion Ultimatum** _and follows on from events in that story. We shall join the British vigilante team, known as_ Vengeance _, as they tackle internal and external threats to the United Kingdom._

 _As usual, I look forward, with some trepidation, to any reviews. I promise to accept all criticism. In addition, I am still British so my spelling and grammar may look and appear strange to some._

 ** _Synopsis:_** _In the United Kingdom, espionage, counterespionage, counterterrorism, and associated covert activities, are the purview of the UK Government Agencies known as the security services. This primarily covers the Security Service (MI5), the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS/MI6) and the Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ). It also covers Special Branch and the Metropolitan Police Anti-Terrorist Branch._

 _During April 2015, an unscrupulous MI5 Officer, Mitchell, coerced Hit Girl and her team to engage in covert activities on the British Mainland. Principally,_ Fusion _were to be unpaid assassins at the whim of Her Majesty's Government (HMG). The coercion was uncovered and Mitchell removed. Hit Girl and_ Fusion _were released from their burden with the grateful thanks of HMG. (See my story:_ **Hit Girl Hits Britain** _)_

 _What occurred, however, got some members of the Security Service thinking. Thus, in mid-December 2015,_ Vengeance _was formed and indirectly funded by MI5. The idea of being able to 'remove' those who demonstrated a great threat to the realm appealed to some._ Vengeance _was intended as an off-the-books organisation which while disciplined, would also be highly illegal. However, HMG trusted_ Fusion _and what it represented and they respected what it had accomplished._

Vengeance _was also a deniable asset and all funding and support could be cut off at the whim of HMG. Until then, HMG would turn a Nelsonic blind eye towards_ Vengeance's _actions as long as they kept their activities well away from the front page of the national tabloids. Where necessary, HMG would also take credit for any successful operations._

* * *

 ** _May 22nd, 2016  
Sunday_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Location: _Edinburgh, Scotland**

The Jaguar F-Type R AWD Coupe roared up the narrow access road at speed.

The Italian Racing Red sports car took the final curve at around 50mph before the carbon-ceramic brakes brought the supercharged 186-mile-per-hour beauty to a tyre screeching halt.

Eighteen-year-old, Natasha King jumped out of the right-hand-side of the car and she jogged up the steps to the front door of the large mansion. The wooden door clicked open automatically before her hand could reach for the recessed number pad to the right of the door frame. She passed through the reception hall and she took the second left through a door and she then turned immediately right. An eight-digit code was entered into a keypad before the door was released. Once through that door, Natasha then turned to the left and walked down the steps to the lower ground floor of the mansion.

..._...

At the base of the stairs, she turned right and walked towards a door that was again secured by a keypad. Another eight-digits later, she stood in the _Vengeance_ Control Room. On the wall before her were three large 65-inch flat panels arranged horizontally. To the left was a large control station with a tall youthful looking young man who sat in front of a pair of 27-inch touch screens that lay before him at a shallow angle. As the young man expertly ran his fingers over the screens, information on the larger flat-screens changed at almost lightning speed.

..._...

"Bet, you are glad to be home, Eric."

Eric looked up forlornly at the face that occupied the centre giant screen.

"I miss you, Abby."

"I miss you, too, Eric."

"Oh, God!" Natasha breathed as she gave her friend, Eric Cunningham, a withering look.

"Hi, Nats!" the smiling girl with long brown hair called out from the screen.

"Afternoon, Abigail, or is it morning over there?"

"It's ten-forty, in the morning, Nats," Abigail Hunt replied from the depths of Safehouse F, in the city of Chicago, some 3,665 miles to the west.

"Oh, God, are they at it again – maybe we should fit the phone lines with condoms!" Cassandra 'Cassie' Perrin chimed in as she entered the Control Room. "Where's your charming brother, Nats?"

"He's gone to Edinburgh; 'for some shopping', he said," Natasha replied.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to your briefing, shall I?" Abby inquired.

"Eric'll be pining for you," Cassie laughed.

"Jerking off more like!" Natasha added.

Eric cringed at the suggestion.

"I can believe that," came a voice from behind Abby and the head of _Fusion_ appeared on the screen.

"Mindy!" the two girls called out happily.

"Hi, girls!" Mindy Lizewski replied. "Sorry, Eric, Abby has work to do – have a nice day!"

With that and a last kiss from Abby, the screen went blank.

* * *

It was amazing what we had built in so short a time.

 _Vengeance_ consisted of four young people. Natasha King, and her twin brother, Cameron, were the lead Operators of the vigilante organisation. I, Eric Cunningham, at just eighteen-years-old, ran all of the electronics and computers which supported _Vengeance_ in its operations. The final member, Cassie Perrin, was the junior Operator and the nineteen-year-old had been the last to join the team.

Of the four, as far as I was aware, I was the only one who was more or less press-ganged into joining _Vengeance_. Not that I had had much choice at them time. However, when I looked back on it, I knew that I had definitely made the right choice. It had only been a little over six months since I had first heard about _Vengeance_.

It was also the very first time that I had met Hit Girl – not that I had been totally convinced of my suspicions at the time.

* * *

 ** _December 2015_**

 ** _Clapham Police Station, London  
Interview Room 3_**

"Eric Cunningham, you are being charged with..."

While I had tuned out the charges being read out to me, I was still aware that the door to the interview room had suddenly opened and two men wearing dark suits had quite literally barged in.

"What the hell is this..." Inspector Monroe began.

"Security Service, Inspector," One of the suits offered. "We are taking young Mr Cunningham into our custody."

"Like bloody hell you are! Who says?" Monroe raged. "I've been on this little shit's tail for six months and I finally have him – no!"

"Here."

An envelope was passed over to the outraged Inspector. He ripped it open and his eyes went wide as he read the document enclosed. After a minute, he glared at the suits and he threw the handcuff key onto the table before them. With that, Inspector Monroe stormed out of the interview room.

A rather bewildered Eric Cunningham had meekly submitted to his new masters.

* * *

 ** _Government Communications Headquarters  
The Doughnut, Cheltenham_**

The journey out of London had been mundane, at least until I had realised with a jerk where we were headed.

It was every hacker's dream to get inside The Doughnut – so named because of its shape. However, we preferred to be doing it from many miles away and over the internet; hackers did not do things in real life. We barely stopped as we swept through the catchment area of the main gate at speed and entered the 176-acre site. I stared up at the enormous building that was the workplace for well over 6,000 people and the hub of all the United Kingdom's SIGINT (signals intelligence) activity.

I was in awe as I was lead from the car and then inside the building.

* * *

 ** _Half a mile away  
Cheltenham Premier Inn  
Room 14_**

"You sure this is going to work?"

I felt weird; I had never worn a military uniform before, let alone one that belonged to a foreign country. It had been the idea of Commander Lawrence to 'help us blend in' – the whole idea was crazy, to say the least! I was wearing the 'general duty rig', or '3A Dress' as Commander Lawrence put it, of an Officer of the Royal Navy – I wore a skirt, tights, white shirt, tie, jersey, and black shoes. On the shoulders of the jersey were shoulder boards that bore the single curl of gold lace which identified me as a Sub Lieutenant, Royal Navy.

Dave wore a very similar uniform – except he wore pants instead of a skirt and his shoulder boards bore the same curl as mine but also an additional stripe of gold lace to identify him as a Lieutenant, Royal Navy. I had no problem being under Dave – although I preferred not to be wearing any clothes... Once we were suitably dressed, we checked each other over and picked up our freshly provided Royal Navy identity cards and our headgear – a white-topped peaked cap for Dave and a white-topped hat for myself. Both bore the Royal Navy officer's cap badge complete with fouled anchor and crown.

"You look hot, girl!" Dave quipped as he lifted the edge of my skirt.

I slapped his hand away, blushing as I did.

"Hands off, _left_ enant!"

..._...

The drive to GCHQ was short and we stopped at the main gate. Our identities were checked off against a visitors list, and we were passed through and directed where to park. I was worried for a brief moment that our 'fake' IDs would not work – I had a feeling that they were the real thing.

I was very impressed by the building. It was a weird shape – hence the nickname. The guy at the Premier Inn had asked us if we were headed over to The Doughnut. We had said 'no comment' and the guy had just laughed. As we were only visitors, we were escorted by a grumpy old git who led us to a small waiting area on the second – oops, _first_ , floor. The Brits liked to confuse me with the way they refer to the levels in a building.

"Just remember to keep your yank trap shut," Dave whispered in my ear.

We were both offered a coffee and we awaited our appointment.

* * *

 ** _GCHQ_**

I soon found myself equipped with a visitor's pass and then I was escorted up some stairs, down several corridors, and generally, I lost track of where I was, where I had been, and for that matter, where I was headed – which I assumed was probably the point.

After what seemed like ages, we stopped outside a door. My escort, a tall man in a dark suit with absolutely no sense of humour, opened the wooden door with the swipe of an access card in a slot to the right of the same door. I was waved in and the door was closed behind me with a dull, and decidedly ominous, _click_. Standing beside a large polished-wood conference table, stood a uniformed naval officer. The rest of the otherwise stark room, was empty.

"Right, young man, my name is Commander Lawrence and you belong to me, at least for the moment. What happens next is entirely up to you."

..._...

I felt very small as I stood in the large conference room that overlooked the central part of the site. I was in the most feared places in the UK, if not Europe, as far as computer hackers were concerned. I was waved to a seat at the table. The table was designed to seat about twenty people comfortably, so I also felt quite ridiculous as I sat a few chairs down from the head of the table. The Commander placed a pair of buff-coloured folders on the table before me. One had a blue label, the other a red label.

"Before you, are two options. You must select one. The first, this one," he indicated the folder with the red label, to my right, "will get you access to a life that you have only dreamt about during your wildest wet dreams. The other, well, that returns you to Inspector Monroe, with the explicit recommendation from GCHQ and the Security Service that you spend the next forty years in a tiny cell, with a man who would like to see if he can tickle your tonsils from behind you if you get my drift."

I blanched at that.

"Now, I will leave you for a few minutes to contemplate my offer – you may call your mother if you wish; just lift the receiver and tell the operator the number. Back in ten . . . oh, feel free to read the folders, bye."

With that, I was left alone.

..._...

I stared down at the folders and then I opened the blue one. It was indeed a transfer order back to the Met and there was also a detailed report from GHCQ as promised and it did not sound good. I closed that folder and opened the other, red one.

It contained a sheaf of papers and a marked place for me to sign. I had seen redacted versions of the document before, but never one in the flesh so to speak. The document was generally referred to as The Official Secrets Act. Signing it did not bind the person to its contents; it merely ensured that the person was fully aware of the Act. The Act was Law and therefore not signing it could still get you sent into some deep, dark, damp hole for the rest of your life.

I did not hesitate, I chose the red pill and I signed the form. With that task completed, I sat back to await my doom.

..._...

Lawrence returned. Only he was not alone. With him were two other naval officers in the same uniform. One was a tall man, the other a very nice looking young woman with piercing green eyes.

He smiled as he saw my signature on the document in the folder.

"A very astute decision, Eric. Now, let's visit Wonderland and I will show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes."

The three naval officers sat down at the head of the table and the Commander pressed a button set into the table top. The blinds on the windows closed and a large screen TV at the opposite end of the room came on. The image was that of a young woman in an armoured suit. The suit was a dark grey with purple highlights. I recognised the individual instantly – who wouldn't.

"You know who this is?" I was asked by the Commander.

"Of course! She's Hit Girl," I replied. Then something struck me. "That's a very good photo; where'd you get it?"

All the photos I had ever seen of Hit Girl, and of the mysterious _Fusion_ , were usually of a low quality. The image before me was in stunning high-definition.

"From the person that you see before you."

"You know Hit Girl?" I blurted out in astonishment.

"Oh, yes."

"Why are you showing me her picture? What is it you people want of me?"

"We, as in Her Majesty's Government, are setting up an organisation similar to _Fusion_ , and we need some technical knowhow. I've been told that you are one of the best. You would get to play with the latest and greatest toys. You would also be financially secure for life. An added bonus would be being on first name terms with Hit Girl, too."

"And that name would be?" I pushed hopefully.

"Hit!" Commander Lawrence replied smoothly.

Learning Hit Girl's true identity so soon was a long shot, but worth a stab in the dark. The other male officer began to talk in a cultured British accent.

"Hit Girl is a bitch – the worst you've ever come across. You think you can handle that?"

The female officer looked a little annoyed by the other officer's comments, but she chipped in nonetheless.

"Hit Girl would work you hard. She might put you in danger. Could you handle _that_?"

The American accent intrigued me, as did the fire in her eyes. I decided to take a leap and make a guess as to the female officer's possible identity.

"Given the alternatives – yeah, I could handle the jumped up purple bitch!"

The young woman smiled at me.

"When do I start?"

"How does tomorrow grab you?" Commander Lawrence replied.

* * *

 ** _May 28th, 2016  
Saturday_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Girls!"

"Coming!" I yelled back as I turned to my cousin. "Kaitlin, let's go."

"Just finished my hair, Naomi..."

We ran out of the bedroom that we both shared. Turned left and then right towards the stairs. We were still getting used to the sheer size of the house – it was enormous. We ran into the massive kitchen where Alexandra Perrin smiled at as. Alexandra was to all intents and purposes, our 'mother' . . . sort of. We had only been living there for a week and it was an enormous change from what we had been used to.

Just two weeks previously, we had both been Phase 1 _Predators_. Life had been hard for us both. Then _Fusion_ had attacked and we had both met Raven. After that night, and after a few nights in a French 'facility', we had found ourselves crossing The English Channel. I had only been a _Predator_ for a year, but in that time I had done many bad things. My cousin had only appeared a few weeks before the attack. She herself was damaged, just as I was. We had both killed our nearest and dearest, Kaitlin literally a week before the attack. Kaitlin was really struggling now that the drugs were almost out of her system. The guilt that she felt was like a giant stone around her neck. I felt the guilt, only less so. That was due to my more ingrained training.

..._...

Alexandra, her husband, Richard, and their daughter, Cassie, all seemed to know what we had been. I felt ashamed of what I had been and I knew that Kaitlin was ashamed too. All three of them had been so nice to us and they had never mentioned _Urban Predator_. We had arrived with nothing, but within days, we had drawers and cupboards overflowing with clothes. We had toys, which for me was something I had forgotten about. I had not played with anything for over a year – my 'toys' had been pistols, assault-rifles, and knives.

Conversely, Kaitlin had settled in and she often sat for hours playing with her dolls and she never went anywhere without her Princess Twilight Sparkle. I tried to join in, only I seemed to have forgotten how to play and it had taken Cassie to help me remember. She had found me crying in a corner of the enormous house and I had told her that I was broken and that I had forgotten how to be a child.


	2. Organised Crime

**_Falkirk, United Kingdom_**

Eighteen months ago, our only living parent was dead and we were stranded in a foreign country without any prospects.

Then, after a stupid decision led us to a run-in with Shadow, aka Chloe Bennett, we almost died. It was only thanks to the very timely intervention of the Queen Bitch, Hit Girl, that we both survived a meeting with mob boss, Ralph D'Amico. Despite being rescued, I had seriously expected Hit Girl to kill us, to maintain the integrity of their identities. That was the fault of my dumb-arse brother; he unmasked Shadow and we would have recognised her on the streets.

Somehow, Hit Girl, aka Mindy Macready, had arranged for us both to return to our former lives in the United Kingdom. I had expected that to be that, but then Mitchell had appeared on the scene. That rollercoaster had finally stopped with the creation of Vengeance. My brother and I were vigilantes and not only that, we were employees of The Security Service – known as MI5 to most. We were part of an organisation that protected the Realm from the inside.

We were not short of cash; our father had left us financially secure for life. Needless to say, we had needed a cover for our activities and we could not admit to working for Her Majesty's Government. As such, we were employed by a company called, Universal Imports. From there came a monthly stipend and provided a legal source of income which could be monitored by HMRC for tax purposes. Officially, we were both 'interns' – which was deemed sufficiently vague to prevent any form of digging.

..._...

We had had no 'five' work since our return from Europe.

Our paymasters had decided to give us some time off. Not that any of us minded – the bruises and the trauma were still healing. I had returned from Europe with bruises all over my unmentionables as well as in other places. While my brother would not think twice about showing me _his_ unmentionables, I was a little more private. Despite our closeness, I would _not_ ask my brother to check the bruises on my unmentionables.

Since neither of us had had a mother in years, I had nobody to see about some of my more feminine issues. However, since January, we had acquired a pseudo-mother. Soon after New Year, I had been stunned to hear about Mindy's trip into the Caribbean. Then I had been even more stunned when Mindy had suggested an additional member for _Vengeance_ who it had turned out lived just a dozen or so miles north of us and had a father in the Royal Navy.

Both Cameron and I saw Cassie as a big sister. Her mother, Alexandra, was like a mother to us both. She would turn up out of the blue with a casserole, or a chocolate cake. We loved it. She would also bring Cassie around and we would have a lot of fun together both in and out of _Vengeance_. I spent hours talking with Alexandra our return from Europe. There were things that I could only speak about with somebody like Alexandra and she had come through for me.

..._...

Then things had changed yet again. Two of the cutest little girls that I had ever seen had moved in with Cassie and her parents. Unknown to them, I had seen them in the wild, so to speak, in France. It was hard to look at the two cousins and know what they used to be. It was the same conundrum that I had experienced with Mindy's own eldest daughter, Stephanie. On the outside, she was cute as a button, but then I had seen her fight in France. Stephanie was, to put it bluntly, pure evil and I was under no illusions about the skills that Kaitlin and Naomi would have learnt while part of that hell which they had endured since they had been taken. I knew that they had killed, both of them.

Mindy had suggested that we keep our alter-egos a secret from the girls. Her explanation was that the two girls should enjoy life before they entered the world of the vigilante – even if that were years away. Mindy had promised that when the time was right, she would be there to help the two girls, along with Stephanie and Saoirse.

I knew that Mindy had made a go at keeping _Fusion_ a secret from her twins, to no avail.

Fate?

* * *

 ** _May 28th, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

I had never slept in a bed like it.

It was ginormous! My cousin slept in an identical bed just a few feet away and you could not even see the nine-year-old girl who slept beneath the mounds of quilt. It was great to have a home and to have people who cared about you . . . only the horrors of the preceding few months still weighed heavily on my mind. I had seen and been made to do many horrifying things.

I had seen people die – I had killed.

I had blood on my hands and I felt dirty. I felt disgusted with myself. Naomi appeared to be coping a lot better than I thought that I was but then she had been in the programme longer than I had. I felt the disgust with myself building inside me each and every day. I needed a release, but I had no weapons to fire off – that used to help, back when I was a bad person, instead, I had only my dolls.

A plan formed in my mind. A plan that might just help me ease my disgust with Kaitlin Ward.

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Monday, 30th May  
Late afternoon_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Mum did not seem very happy when I returned from my classes at the university.

"Problems?"

"You could say that," Mum replied. "The head called from the girls' school. The first day did _not_ go all that well for Kaitlin. I called her on it and I found that the young lady has a very creative vocabulary."

"I'll talk to her," I sighed. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs," my Mum replied pointedly. "I sent her to her room."

I could well remember being on the wrong end of my Mum's temper and it was not a very fun place to be. I headed upstairs and knocked on the door to the girls' room which was slightly ajar.

"Come in!" Naomi called and I pushed the door open and walked into the bedroom. "Hi, Cassie."

I smiled at Naomi who lay on her bed doing her homework. There was no sign of her younger cousin.

"Kaitlin?"

Naomi rolled her eyes and tipped her head.

"In the bathroom."

I turned and pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom which I had passed on the way in. The eight-year-old girl with her long dark brown hair sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom beside the sink. She just stared into nothing – the ubiquitous 'thousand-yard-stare'. Her facial expression was one of anger and she looked really pissed. I sat down on the floor a couple of feet in front of her and I crossed my legs. Kaitlin either had not noticed me, or she was just really annoyed with the world in general. Either way, she never acknowledged me.

..._...

"So, how did your day go?" I ventured.

"It sucked, big time..." came the annoyed response in a barely audible whisper.

"Care to explain?" I pushed.

"No really."

"Please?"

Kaitlin huffed and puffed for a few seconds before she deigned to respond.

"I don't like being told what to do. I've had enough of that."

"I can understand that. But being given instructions, well, that's just a normal part of life for a little girl of your age, Kaitlin."

"Only, I'm not a _normal_ little girl."

"No, but you can be."

Finally, Kaitlin looked up from wherever she had been looking and her angry expression had dissolved into one of abject misery.

"I don't know how."

"We can help you."

"I'm a freak. The other kids laughed at me."

"No you are not. You are just a little girl who needs help. However, you've got to let us in, if you want us to help you, Kaitlin."

A weak smile formed and I knew that I had made a chink in the former _Predator's_ armour. A small chink – but still a chink.

"Shall we get up off this cold floor and go look at your homework?"

"Okay. Will you stay with me?"

"Yes. Then, once we are done, you need to apologise to Mom for what you said to her."

"I just reacted and I never meant to hurt Alexandra. I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"Yes, young lady, you are," I replied as we headed over to Kaitlin's bed.

"What do you do for punishment?" the eight-year-old asked and I saw fear in her eyes.

"Ground you. Maybe send you to bed early. Restrict fun activities and TV."

"Is that all?" Kaitlin sounded doubtful and she still looked fearful.

..._...

I looked over at Naomi for help. The older girl looked grim as she spoke.

"When we were bad, we were punished very severely. They used bats and straps. Usually, they'd bend you over a table and yank down your trousers and knickers. Then you'd get six of the best – or more, depending on your age and crime."

I was stunned at the revelation.

"Did either of you...?"

"I received the strap four times – six the first time, then twelve each the remaining three times. They were all done in full view of the other kids. It was humiliating and very painful. Naomi received the strap once..." Kaitlin paused. "The woman took the strap across her bare bottom sixteen times. Naomi couldn't sit down for a week. She screamed every time she went for a pee."

I pulled Kaitlin into a hug and looked over at Naomi.

"Nobody will ever do that to either of you again. That is a firm promise. We would never hurt you. I am so sorry that you had to endure something so barbaric."

After a few minutes, Kaitlin wriggled free and she went over to where she had thrown her school bag. She pulled out her homework and I laid on the bed beside her.

* * *

 ** _The following night  
Tuesday, 31st May_**

 ** _South Carbrian Road, Carbrain, Cumbernauld  
(Approx. 30 miles west of Edinburgh)_**

The five-litre V8 engine of the Range Rover Sentinel known as _Sabre_ hummed gently as the vehicle sat in the darkness beside the road, all lights extinguished.

Inside the vehicle, the three of us sat in the darkness. None of us were visible to the outside due to the darkened armoured glazing. Most would have been very unhappy if they could have seen us, all done up to the nines in our battle armour. We talked amongst ourselves as we monitored the area for trouble.

Cumbernauld was a favourite hunting ground for us. It was like the Glorious 12th, but for drug-dealers instead of grouse. Mind you, I cared for the grouse a fuck of a lot more than I cared for the fucking scrotes shottin to young kids – my sister, Crimson, and Nemesis thought the same.

Police Scotland did what they could, but the druggies were always one step ahead, most of the time. The Police did not skulk in the darkness like we did and they did not strike like we did. For some criminals, as far as we were concerned, they were guilty, until proved innocent. The only catch was that they had less than a second to persuade us that they were, in fact, innocent.

..._...

We did not kill when on an anti-drug night out. We just roughed the fuckers up a bit and then left them for the Police to scoop up. The Police would always take the credit too, not that we were bothered. Drug dealing was on the organised crime level and as such, anybody talking part was far game. It was also serious business and the dealers were more than often tooled up with something lethal.

The dealers also doubled up their business by loaning the money for people to buy drugs with at enormous mark ups. People were then trapped and were often beaten if they were late paying. It was not unknown for petrol to be poured through a letterbox and then followed up by a burning wad of newspaper.

The area was a nightmare for people like us due to the many walkways and paths that zigzagged around the estates. To aid us in our night's work, Q was back at the Vengeance Command Centre on the outskirts of Edinburgh. He had one of our pair of drones airborne over the area, a kilometre overhead. EAGLE-1 would send real-time reconnaissance data for Q to examine and then use to guide us when we were deployed on the ground. EAGLE-1 could see as if it were daylight so it was next to impossible to hide.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Edinburgh_**

"Anything happening?"

"Nah, Abby, everybody up to no good seems to be in bed!" I groused.

"Let me cheer you up then..." Abigail Hunt hinted from across the Atlantic Ocean in northern Chicago.

Q, otherwise known as Eric Cunningham was momentarily stunned as his girlfriend stood up and...

"Why would you be sitting at your laptop naked from the waist down?"

"You complaining?" Abby enquired as she pulled off her blouse and she dropped it carelessly onto the floor behind her. She was now very naked.

"No – definitely not..." Eric groaned as he gripped his groin.

* * *

 ** _Sabre_**

"Q?"

"Q?"

"Huh?"

"You getting a virtual wank from Abby again?" Crimson demanded.

"No... Maybe..."

"Anything on the scope?"

"Nothing yet..." Q began.

"There will be once Abby makes him climax!" Nemesis laughed.

"That's disgusting," Drift commented.

"You used to jerk off in front of that mirror on the back of your door – some of those stains never came off you know," Crimson advised her mortified brother.

"Ewww!" Nemesis growled.

"Stand to!" Q advised over comms.

"We thought you were," Drift responded and Crimson laughed.

"Something's going down – Greenrigg Road. Make a U-turn and left under a footbridge. First block of flats. You might want to cover the footbridge..."

"On it!" Crimson called as she turned the gear selector to 'D' and executed a quick U-turn before she put her foot down.

..._...

Just before the turn, Crimson slammed on the brakes and the three-tonne vehicle came to a rapid halt. Drift dove out just as Crimson stomped on the go pedal and she took the next left followed by a sharp right.

There was definitely something going on as they came to a halt again. Crimson and Nemesis jumped out and Q remotely locked the vehicle. The headlights blazed onto a scene that was typical of the organised drug scene. A man was on his knees and another held a pistol to his head. Arrayed around both men were three others, all armed with a pistol each.

"What the fuck?" The man with the pistol to the other man's head demanded at the sight of the two vigilantes clad in ballet armour.

"You are filth," Crimson growled as she brought around her bō-staff. "You kill that man, you die."

"Go take your flashy blades and use 'em to fuck yourself."

Nemesis took exception to that comment and she showed it as she drew her Katana from her back and took up position a few feet from her partner.

"Okay, _I'll_ fuck you both!" The man laughed as he pulled the trigger.

The kneeling man's head exploded and the corpse fell to the ground. Nemesis ran forwards and she rammed her armoured elbow into a man's face before he could raise his pistol any further. Blood exploded from his destroyed nose as he dropped his firearm and screamed out in agony. Crimson too was quick on the draw as she made for the murdering bastard.

Only, his two henchmen had closed ranks on their master and they had given him time to escape.

* * *

The drug dealer was the boss of that part of town and everybody knew it.

He had not, until that night, tussled with the vigilantes who had seemingly sprung out of thin air at the beginning of the year to wreak vengeance on anybody who was involved in organised crime. Craig Allan always managed to keep ahead of the thin blue line which attempted to maintain law and order in central Scotland.

Whoever they were, they were very organised, almost to military precision. That was fine by him, he was ex-British Army and as far as he was concerned, he could look after himself. With his men slowing down the two bitches from hell, Allan ran towards the footbridge and an easy escape in a strategically placed vehicle.

He skidded to a halt as something emerged from the gloom ahead of him. Something was already on the walkway. Allan drew his pistol, a Browning Hi-Power in nine-millimetre. An older pistol, but cheap and reliable. A relic from his Army days and totally illegal anywhere in the United Kingdom. He pulled back the cocking lever and raised the large pistol to head height. He heard the rasp of steel being unsheathed and he felt a cold chill that was not just the cool night air.

The form emerged out of the darkness. The battle armour was a dark blue and for the first time in quite a while, Craig Allan felt real fear. He squeezed the trigger of his pistol and kept squeezing. Twelve rounds later the slide locked back. The thirteen-round magazine was empty. Allan peered into the darkness to where he had seen the vigilante fall.

"Fucking ouch!" came a growl out of the gloom.

* * *

I heard the gunshots and I saw the muzzle flashes in the darkness.

Despite my brain telling me that my brother wore heavy battle armour, my mind still worried that he could be hurt. I ran after him the moment Nemesis and I had put down the final henchman. As usual, I was getting ahead of myself as I skidded to a rapid halt about midway across the walkway. I caught the scene just as Drift delivered a powerful punch into the side of the man's head. Without a sound, the man sank to the concrete walkway and he collapsed completely.

"Fucking took you long enough!" Drift growled as he stepped over the unconscious form.


	3. Kaitlin Strikes

**_Wednesday, June 1st, 2016_**

 ** _West Moors, Dorset_**

The nine-year-old girl before me was no longer the little girl that I had last known, eighteen months or so before.

She looked the same, only she was older and a little bit taller, but something about her manner was different. Her eyes were cold and dark. They were not the usual eyes of a girl her age, eyes that should have been full of joy and happiness.

To be blunt, she scared me.

* * *

 ** _Two weeks previously_**

 ** _Royal Navy Type 23 Frigate  
HMS Sutherland_**

 ** _Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea_**

Lieutenant Keira Sharp grimaced as her name was announced over the ship-wide tannoy.

She was not overly happy with her ordered destination either. However, she hurried out of the Wardroom on 01 deck into the corridor. She turned right in the direction of the bow and went up a broad ladder. She turned immediately right and then knocked on the doorframe of the first cabin.

"Come!"

Keira pushed aside the curtain and entered her commanding officer's at sea cabin. Commander Jacobs was seated at his desk and he looked up as one of his junior officers entered.

"Lieutenant Sharp reporting as ordered, Sir!"

"At ease, Lieutenant. Take a pew."

"Thank you, Sir."

Keira sat down at a chair to the left of the desk. As a rule, she tried to avoid direct contact with her commanding officer and she wondered what she might have done to have been summoned out of the blue. Commander Jacobs smiled to put her at ease.

"A signal arrived today. One part – eyes only for yourself, plus another for me. I am directed to place you on indefinite compassionate leave. As of this minute, you are relieved of your duties. You will be flown ashore to the nearest airport this afternoon."

"Sir?"

"I have no idea why – you'll have to read your own part of the signal in the privacy of your cabin."

Commander Jacobs rose to his feet and Lieutenant Sharp followed suit. The Commander handed over a brown envelope, plus a small sheet of paper which the Lieutenant signed to acknowledge receipt of the signal.

"Your time aboard has been exemplary, Lieutenant. You will be missed, but you are welcome back aboard anytime. Good luck, Keira."

"Thank you, Sir."

Keira braced up and she nodded to her, now former, commanding officer. She left the cabin and in a daze she dropped down a deck and headed aft a short way before she found herself in her small cabin on the port side of the frigate.

..._...

"Hi, Keira. All good?"

Kiera turned to her cabin mate who lay in her bunk reading one of her usual Tom Clancy novels.

"I don't know, Sarah."

Sarah looked on as Keira sat down in her chair and she ripped open the brown envelope. She withdrew a folded piece of A4 paper and began to read. Sarah was curious as to what had caused her friend to be summoned to the Captain's lair. Her curiosity turned to worry as her friend put a hand to her mouth and she began to sob. After a minute, Keira looked up at Sarah, a smile on her face amidst the tears.

"She's alive..."

Sarah knew that Keira had lost both of her parents, and her younger sister, about eighteen months previously. They had gone missing and nobody knew what had happened to them. They had been declared dead only a month since.

"Who?"

"Harper – my sister . . . she's alive!"

* * *

 ** _Thursday, June 2nd_**

 ** _Leeds, West Yorkshire_**

Vengeance was on a field trip.

Well, some of us were. Eric and I had taken the Overfinch down to Yorkshire at the bequest of MI5. The girls were staying in Scotland to hold down the fort, so to speak. Our directions led us down a street of terraced houses that looked in need of some general care. Some were boarded up with steel shutters and had obviously been empty for a while. We pulled up beside a Ford Mondeo which had two men leaning on the bonnet. As we emerged from the Overfinch, the men approached us and we each exchanged IDs. They were both 'five'.

"So, what is this about?" Eric asked.

"We seem to have a CIA Safehouse that has been compromised," one of the two men explained as we walked towards a building with a smashed – actually, demolished – window on the first floor. "About a week ago, the fire brigade responded to a call of explosions at this address. They found this..."

Several photos were passed over. Eric grimaced at the full-colour glossy images of death.

"That guy – one, maybe two bullets in the head. The next guy..." The man pointed up the staircase to where there was a ragged hole and the adjacent walls were covered in a gooey substance that had dried. "Claymore, in the step. Needless to say, he didn't fill the body bag."

"Both men were CIA Agents on the Diplomatic List. Grosvenor Square has not been able to explain the presence of either the Safehouse, nor the dead men," the other man went on.

We stepped over the large hole which had been bridged with an aluminium framework. At the top of the stairs, we walked into the room with the demolished window frame. I saw the obvious child's accoutrements and looked at Eric. He nodded.

" _Urban Predator_."

"That's what we thought, Mr King."

"Maybe they came to terminate a kid and the kid fought back?" Eric mused.

"Sure looks that way."

* * *

 ** _That same time_**

 ** _Edinburgh Airport_**

During my last phone call with Mum, she had been rather vague concerning who might be picking me up from the airport.

I was more than a little surprised to see Dad, but not only Dad, my younger sister too. She _never_ came to pick me up from the airport! Cass came bounding up and she grabbed me in a surprisingly strong bear hug. Cass was grinning fit to burst – she had a secret and she was desperate to tell me that secret. I knew my sister's expressions and mannerisms only too well.

"What are you being so loving for, Cass?"

"Is it a crime to love your big sister?" Cass pouted.

I laughed.

"No. Good to see you, Daddy."

I gave my father a big hug and then gave him a questioning look. I saw his expression turn serious.

"We need to talk; all three of us, _before_ we get home. There is a house, a little way from here, where we can talk in private."

Talk about cloak and dagger!

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Sorry, Sarah, the traffic was heavier than I thought," Richard Perrin apologised to his eldest daughter.

"Should I be worried, Dad?" Sarah Perrin enquired as she climbed out of her father's Audi and looked up at the stone building. "What _is_ this place?"

"Worried? No, you are perfectly safe, believe me," her father replied with a sly grin at his youngest daughter.

"You didn't answer my question?"

"It's the Command Centre."

"Command Centre? For what?"

"Come in and sit down."

..._...

Ten minutes later, the three Perrins were seated in the comfortable living room. Richard was in a chair while his two daughters sat on a large couch. Sarah still wore an expression of confusion. Cassie smiled at her sister, and she tried very hard to control her excitement.

"Sarah. A lot has happened over the past six months or so. For your own safety, you have been kept in the dark. December 29th, last year, it was. On the flight deck of my own command. We were alongside in Antigua and we had a party on the go. A good friend in the United States Navy introduced me to a young woman, her husband, and two of her friends. I had been read in on an organisation that operated out of the American city of Chicago, only the month before."

"Chicago? You mean those vigilantes?"

"Yes, I do. That woman at my cocktail party . . . she was Hit Girl. She was there with Kick-Ass and her two lieutenants, Shadow and Jackal. The following day was normal and we went back to sea. Then, later that evening, we received a ship-to-ship from the _USS Churchill_ requesting some information concerning traffic out of Guadeloupe. Later on, I found out that some dickhead had kidnapped a little seven-year-old girl off the streets. Only, he made a _slight_ miscalculation – he took the daughter of Hit Girl..."

"Not an act that would be seen as conducive to a long and healthy life," Sarah mused as she struggled to wrap her head around what her father was saying.

..._...

"Funny you should say that..." Commander Perrin chuckled. "New Year's Eve. I received a directive from their Lordships. With that directive under my belt, I put my Royal's ashore by boat drop and closed the coast. In the early hours, we launched our Wildcats to escort a pair of Oceanhawks from the _Churchill_. A battle was raging on an island in the BVI. We covered the extraction as best we could. One of our Wildcats achieved an air-to-air kill against another helicopter."

"I heard rumours about that, but I saw them as bullshit," Sarah commented as her father continued.

"Hit Girl rescued her daughter and they all escaped. The island was a scene of carnage – nobody survived."

"I should think not," Sarah replied coldly and her father chuckled. He was pleased with his daughter's comment.

..._...

"We thought that was that, but a few hours later I was on the bridge..."

"Dozing?"

"Dozing. Then a Mayday came in. I recognised the voice directly and ordered an immediate change of course and an increase to 28 knots. I also scrambled the ready Wildcat. Somebody was not happy with events and they had sent some go-fasts after Hit Girl's yacht – the _Atlantic Storm_ , by the way. The idiots opened fire on the Wildcat and the pilot went defensive. We closed to four-five range and opened fire. I understand that poor Cassie – she was aboard since Antigua and she was at her action station in the wardroom – I understand that she jumped a mile when the four-five went off!"

"Yeah, it was really funny, Dad!" Cassie growled good-naturedly.

"Poor, Cass – you always scared easily," Sarah laughed with a nudge in her sister's side.

"She _did_... Well, after seeing off the go-fasts, we escorted Atlantic Storm to a secret island and while she received hull checks and some repairs, we all sat down to dinner. I introduced your sister to the world of the vigilante . . . and to Hit Girl."

"You've seen Hit Girl?" Sarah gasped in surprise as she turned to her sister. "Without her mask?"

"I have – most of the rest of her team, too."

"Holy Mother of God!"

"There's more," Sarah's father continued. "A whole lot more..."

..._...

"I think it might be easier just to show her," Cassie suggested to her father who nodded.

Sarah followed her sister as she headed out of the living room and down to the lower ground floor. She turned right at the base of the staircase and then left towards a wall with three doorways. One, to the left, was marked, 'WC'. The next was covered in steel and there was a code lock to the left of it. The third door was not covered in steel, but still had a code lock to the left of it.

Cassie headed for the third door and punched in an eight-digit code which released the door. She waved her elder sister through. Sarah was amazed to see a very well equipped gym, but she was then stunned to see what was arranged along one wall. Three glass-fronted lockers were arranged side-by-side. In each was a set of battle armour. Cassie stopped in front of the locker, third from the left. Above each locker was a name: 'Crimson', 'Drift', and 'Nemesis'.

"Sarah, I am Nemesis. I am a vigilante. I was trained by Hit Girl and I fight with an organisation called _Vengeance_."

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

I was awoken by an incessant buzzing.

As my eyes came open, I locked onto the clock beside me bed. It was a little after one in the morning – I groaned as I reached for my buzzing mobile.

"Hello?"

"This is Sergeant Barlow from Police Scotland. Is this Miss Perrin?"

"It is..."

"I have a young lady with me who says that she belongs to you – Kaitlin, she says her name is."

I bolted out of bed and ran down to the girl's bedroom. I pushed the door open and turned on the overhead light. Other than a bleary eyed and annoyed looking Naomi, the room was empty.

"Where is she?" I asked the Police Officer.

"A couple of miles east of you, Miss."

..._...

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up beside a BMW Police car a 'couple of miles' along the A873. The BMW saloon appeared to have suffered some damage. Two Police Officers in fluorescent jackets stood beside their motor and one had hold of Kaitlin. Her hands were by her sides and she was crying. I climbed out of my Audi and I gave the eight-year-old a withering look. Kaitlin flinched slightly at my expression. As I came close to the BMW, I noticed that every single piece of glazing had been smashed and that each of the four tyres were very flat.

"Could I have a word in private, Sergeant?" I asked and he nodded. We headed back over to the Audi and I pulled out my MI5 identification. "We need to keep this low key, Sergeant."

"I see. I suppose I could release the girl into your custody, but there _will_ be fallout from this."

"I understand. You know where to find us."

With that, I returned to Kaitlin and without a word and I pointed to the Audi. The young girl hung her head and climbed into the backseat. Nobody spoke on the short drive back to the house.

..._...

Everybody was awake and in the kitchen. Kaitlin looked very embarrassed as she saw all the eyes staring at her. Naomi glared at her younger cousin and then headed upstairs back to bed without a word.

"I'm sorry," Kaitlin offered weakly.

"Bed, young lady," Richard Perrin ordered. "Oh, Kaitlin, please stay in bed until you are called in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 ** _Wednesday, June 3rd_**

 ** _Beaconhurst School_**

"You are such an idiot!"

"Leave me alone."

"You keep this up and they aren't going to want to keep us any longer."

Kaitlin grabbed her cousin's arm and pulled her over to one side of the corridor.

"I'm sorry. Everything is just too normal; I needed a release."

"I know it's difficult, Kaitlin. We are really lucky to have found people who love us for who we are. They know what we were, but that is all in the past and we need to try and get on with our lives. Look, Kaitlin – talk to me next time you feel an urge to destroy something, okay?"

Kaitlin grinned for the first time that day and she nodded.

"Let's get to class before we're late."

* * *

 ** _South Letham_**

"She did what?"

Cameron was genuinely shocked by the revelation of Kaitlin's nocturnal activities. Eric was stunned to say the least. Both had just returned from their sojourn to Yorkshire.

"The car was wrecked – glass, tyres, the lot," I confirmed.

"Way to go, girl!" Natasha laughed.

"Not funny – there's going to be trouble over this," I warned.

"Cass is right, that was a step too far for the girl," Eric replied. "Obviously she's having trouble adjusting to a normal life – can't really blame her there."

"No," Natasha agreed.

"What can we do about it?" Cameron asked.

"Bring them into _Vengeance_?" Eric mused.

"No way!" I said sharply. "They are way too young for that."

"Anne-Marie and Danny cope," Natasha commented. "Stephanie's not all that much older."

"I have an idea," I muttered. "I think I might be able to give them something to do without revealing _Vengeance_ to them."

..._...

"Changing the subject slightly," Cameron said. "How did your sister take finding out that her little sister is a cold-blooded killer?"

"Cameron!" Natasha growled.

"She's still struggling to get her head around it. She's gone into Falkirk with Mum and Dad."

"It'll work out, Cass," Eric said soothingly.

"Thanks."

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Have you both done your homework?"

"Yes, Cassie," both girls replied.

"Now. About last night."

Kaitlin's smile vanished in a flash and she looked down at her white ankle socks.

"Naomi. You didn't notice anything about your cousin? Anything to show that she was about to go on a violent and destructive rampage?"

"Me?" Naomi responded in surprise. "I'm her cousin, not her keeper. I am not responsible for what she does."

"Yes, you are. You know her a lot better than the rest of us do."

"That isn't fair," Naomi retorted and I noticed the anger building. Kaitlin looked up a little confused as to why her cousin was getting into trouble and not her – after all, it had been _her_ who had slashed four tyres and smashed all the glass on that BMW.

"I am telling you that from this point on, you are responsible for that little girl."

"No way!"

"You will do what you are told, young lady," I replied firmly and knew that I had hit the nail on the head, or was that the button on the detonator?

"Uh, oh!" Kaitlin muttered as she took a step back, away from her cousin.

"You do _not_ tell me what to do – you are _not_ my mother!" Naomi growled. There was anger in the tone and I knew that the _Predator_ inside was coming out for the very first time since her arrival in Scotland.

We had seen Kaitlin's anger manifest in the attack on the police car. Naomi was something new and we had no idea how she might react when pushed. I had felt that it might be safer to set her off in a more controlled environment.

* * *

I had no idea _what_ I had just walked into.

The three of us had just returned from Falkirk and I had heard raised voices. On venturing into the morning room, I had found my sister, Cassie, and the two girls. Cassie and Naomi were shouting at each other. I had met the two girls only the night before. They appeared very sweet but then the younger one had got up to something during the night – something about vandalism. Dad had been angry but he had just sent the young girl to bed. I had recognised the tone of his voice and I knew that he was just biding his time.

Cassie reached out to touch the girl, but Naomi blocked her. By 'blocked', I meant a professional Martial Arts block – not something which you might expect from a nine-year-old girl in Primary 6. Cassie grimaced and I saw her smirk. The next thing Naomi knew, she lay on her back, on the floor. Her face was a maze of anger, humiliation, and shock. I was shocked too – I knew what my sister was, but wow!

"Yeah, I can do that shit, too," Cassie said as she glared down at the fallen girl.

"Don't you _dare_ hurt my cousin!" Kaitlin called out as she joined in the fray. She kicked out in what appeared to be a reflex action and caught Cassie in her left kidney. So much for a sweet little girl in Primary 5.

Cassie screamed out in pain and she fell to the ground. I recognised her expression – she was faking it! Kaitlin stopped her attack instantly and she sank to the floor beside my sister.

"Cassie!" Kaitlin almost screamed. "I am _so_ sorry."


	4. The Problem With Predators

**_Sunday, June 5th, 2016_**

 ** _Bournemouth, Dorset_**

It was getting late, so I decided that we should head home.

It had been a good day and the first proper afternoon spent with my little sister doing something fun together. The two weeks since I had acquired custody of my eight-year-old sister had been difficult, to say the least, as I had reacquainted myself with her. I had been more than stunned on the second day when I had seen her in the bath. There had been a very visible mark on her backside and when I had enquired about it, she had simply called it 'punishment' and then left it at that.

Very little had been explained to me about _where_ she had been for eighteen months and _what_ had happened to her during that time. I decided that it would be best for the both of us if I just concentrated on the present and not on the past. On a positive note, Harper was smiling which in itself had been rare.

..._...

I had not fully realised how badly damaged she was until we met a group of young men coming out of a side street. They were slightly inebriated as could be reasonably expected on a Saturday night. I had tried to steer Harper and myself around them, but the leader had decided to behave like a typical male chauvinist as he leered at my chest.

"Nice titties, girl. Fancy a tit fuck?"

"Go fuck yourself!" I replied forcefully.

"Ooh, playing hard to get – I like that in a woman. I want to…"

The man never got a chance to finish his comment as I felt Harper pull her hand from mine and then without a moment's hesitation, the nine-year-old span around and kicked the drunk in the chest. It was a hard strike; the man stumbled and he sank to his knees. As he sank to the concrete paving slabs which formed the pavement beneath our feet, Harper rammed her right elbow into the drunk's face and I saw a spray of blood as the guy's nose was smashed.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I demanded of my sister.

She just looked up at me . . . no emotion . . . she just shrugged. The other men made for their fallen leader. I grabbed hold of Harper and I dragged her down another street and back towards where the car was parked. A few corners later, I seized hold of my sister and I thrust her up against a wall.

"What was that about?" I demanded. "You could have hurt that man."

"He deserved it. He said bad things to you."

I smiled briefly.

"Thank you, Harper, but I _can_ look after myself."

"Sorry. I'm a bad person. They filled my brain with bad stuff. It's automatic. I just react. Can we go home now?"

"Of course, honey."

* * *

I decided that there was only one option open to me – I had to talk to somebody.

Almost the minute that we got home, I picked up the phone and dialled a certain mobile number from memory. I prayed that she would be there and that she would be able to listen to my problems like she usually did. The phone was answered by a very familiar voice.

"Sarah?"

"Keira! How are you doing?"

"I need help . . . you're the only person that I can turn to."

"What's wrong?"

Sarah's voice sounded guarded.

"It's Harper – there's something about her . . . I don't know what. I just need somebody to talk to."

"Get a flight up to bonnie Scotland. I'll meet you both at the airport. Just give me a time."

"Thank you, Sarah."

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Sarah Perrin replaced her mobile phone into the back pocket of her jeans and thought for a few minutes.

Her mind was made up. She sought out her little sister. Cassie was helping herself to a large glass of ice-cold milk from the fridge – she always had been a milk-bandit! I motioned her to the table and we both sat down.

"Cass, I'm really struggling with this new you. You used to be scared of your own shadow . . . now you've killed people."

"Only those who deserved it, sis."

"There's something about those two little girls. You remember Keira Sharp, my cabinmate at Dartmouth?"

"Yes, of course – she was nice."

"Eighteen months ago, her little sister went missing and both of her parents were killed. Keira was at sea at the time. Then, just a little over two weeks ago, her little sister was reported as being alive and she was packed off on compassionate leave to look after her. Her sister appearing from nowhere kind of matches up with two more little girls that seemed to come from nowhere."

Cassie did her utmost to keep a poker face but Sarah had seen Cassie growing up and therefore, she knew every twitch and expression.

"Okay. Beginning of May – it was a Thursday night, curry night. We altered course to intercept a vessel after reports of explosions seen by the bridge watchkeepers. The vessel in question was darkened and she glowed like a son-of-a-bitch on infrared like she had had a bad fire onboard. I wasn't on the bridge; I was just coming off watch in the Ops Room when I heard the radio chatter and some weird code challenges that our Skipper accepted. The other vessel's callsign was ' _Oscar Victor_ ' – ring a bell, dear sister?

"What about us escorting said vessel into Gib and then two nights later, our Merlin is scrambled for a pickup on The Rock. Keira was the co-pilot on that one. She was sworn to absolute secrecy over the whole thing! There's something going on behind the scenes here. Those two little girls just ain't normal and Keira is coming up with her sister to get some help as Harper is not normal either..."

"Okay, Sarah, we need to talk," her father interrupted as he came into the room. "Please calm down and we will do our best to explain everything."

..._...

"It was called _Urban Predator_..." Cassie began.

Cassie talked for over an hour with additional input from her father. Sarah was speechless and way beyond just stunned. It was a short while before she could speak again once the expose was completed.

"Those two little girls?"

"Yes, they are both killers in every sense of the word. I would expect that your friend's sister, Harper, is just the same."

Sarah thought for a moment before continuing.

"You were both at Gibraltar?"

"I swore your Captain to secrecy over my being aboard _Ocean Vigilante_. It was fate that it was Sutherland which intercepted us."

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Monday, June 6th_**

 ** _Edinburgh Airport_**

As the two sisters stepped out of the British Airways Embraer 190 jet onto the mobile steps, they had no idea just how much their lives were about to change.

After a lengthy walk, they were met at Arrivals by Sarah. Keira and Sarah hugged. Sarah had never actually met Harper before, so she crouched down to say hello. Harper smiled just like any other shy little girl but Sarah could see something in her eyes. The same darkness was there; the same darkness as was visible in the eyes of not just Naomi and Kaitlin, but to a lesser extent in her own sister's eyes.

They were all killers.

* * *

 ** _Ninety minutes later_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Just to be on the safe side, I had the two girls seated and I sat between them, a hand securely on each arm.

Sarah came in with another woman. The woman had shoulder-length, dark brown hair. She smiled at me and nodded.

"Cass. I'm sure you remember Kiera Sharp and this is her sister..."

Sarah was cut off by a not so friendly growl from Naomi.

"Brown!"

"Ward!" Harper breathed in an equally unfriendly way.

The two girls obviously knew each other and they appeared to have had a none too friendly history.

"You two know each other?" Keira asked, very surprised.

"We were bitter rivals," Harper explained coolly.

"But that was in the past, Brown."

"I go by my real name, now: Sharp," Harper corrected Naomi who had stood up.

"Sorry, Harper. Let's leave the past in the past, shall we. We _Predators_ need to stick together – for mutual support, if nothing else."

Harper smiled as she stepped forwards and the young girl held out her right hand.

"Friends?"

"Friends," Naomi confirmed as she gave her new friend a big hug. "You remember Kaitlin?"

Harper released Naomi and she looked down at the eight-year-old.

"Oh, yeah. I remember Kaitlin. She destroyed anything yet?"

"Funny you should ask," Naomi laughed. "She wrecked a Police BMW the other night."

"It was an accident!" Kaitlin growled.

* * *

"Kaitlin's destroyed something before?" I asked.

Naomi looked down at her cousin. Kaitlin nodded and she looked really unhappy as Naomi began with an explanation.

"A few months back, Kaitlin was having a bad week. By the Thursday, she had had enough. However, during a weapons class, two Phase 2 girls entered the classroom. They seized Kaitlin and they dragged her out of the classroom and down to the tank room."

"They stripped me down to my knickers and then they dunked me headfirst into the freezing cold water," Kaitlin said quietly before going silent and her cousin continued the story.

"Well, Kaitlin snapped. Somehow, a short while before our evening meal, Kaitlin had acquired a live hand grenade. She pulled the pin and dropped it into the tank of water – then she legged it. The tank was destroyed and the water caused major damage to the electrics in that part of the building."

"Wow!" I commented as Naomi frowned. Harper's expression turned dark as she took up the story.

"They came for Kaitlin during dinner. Two female instructors. One grabbed her off the bench and threw her down onto the table, on top of her food. They both wrenched down her joggers and her knickers. Then they took the strap to her – sixteen times."

There was total silence. Harper looked pained.

"She screamed so much that she had trouble breathing. When they finished, they stripped off all her clothes, then they just dumped her on the floor and they left her screaming and sobbing with the pain."

"They did it as a warning to us all," Naomi added darkly.

"Naomi and another girl helped the naked Kaitlin to her bed in the dormitory on the first floor. Kaitlin screamed for over an hour before she finally succumbed and fell asleep. I'd seen a lot of bad stuff during my training, but for such a young girl to be beaten like that . . . I can never block out that sight from my mind – her backside was purple and there was some blood too. Everybody was curious and there must have been dozens of kids – even some boys snuck in – checking out her wounds. I'm really sorry about what happened to you, Kaitlin, and I'm glad you've recovered."

"I never knew that the whole world checked out my arse while I was sleeping," the slightly embarrassed Kaitlin commented. "Thanks, Harper. You my friend too?"

"Of course."

* * *

"Can somebody, _please_ , tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"

Keira was struggling to understand what her own sister was saying, let alone what the other two girls were coming out with. Sarah came over to her friend.

"I only found out last night. I think you need to sit down, Sarah."

Sarah did so and Cassie motioned the three girls to sit down quietly. They each sat down on the floor in a tight group.

"It was called _Urban Predator_..." Cassie began.

..._...

After the first ten minutes, Harper climbed up off the floor and cuddled in with her sister. A few minutes later, the two cousins did the same and sat close to Cassie. Everything was laid out. The plan behind _Urban Predator_ and what it was intended to become. How the children were recruited and how they were brainwashed. An insight into the training methods. Then came the failures of _Urban Predator_ and ultimately, it's total destruction. Certain details were skipped, however, such as Cassie's involvement.

"I knew that Harper had been through something bad . . . I'd seen the marks on her body. But . . . Harper, you received the strap too?"

Harper nodded grimly.

"You poor, poor girl."

* * *

While Alexandra Perrin provided a much-needed distraction with cake and fizzy drinks for the girls, Sarah, Cassie, and Keira went for a walk in the capacious grounds of the old house.

"What do I do now, Sarah?" Keira asked. "Do I give up my commission? I need to look after Harper . . . only, I don't know if I can cope with her alone with what she is now."

"Keira – you don't need to do this alone. Harper will need a lot of support, but she also needs some stability. Come and live in Scotland. We can find you a place to live and we can find you a job," Cassie suggested.

"It means giving up what I love. I love the sea. I love being there to help people who cannot help themselves. I love to fly."

Sarah smiled at her sister.

"I think I might have some ideas about all that," Cassie commented.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

"Girls!"

There was a lot of rowdy behaviour in the bathroom as the three friends got themselves washed prior to bed. Despite their early behaviour, the three girls were all now giggling and laughing like they had been friends forever. By the time Cassie had appeared to see of the girls were in bed, the scene was total chaos.

Harper was only wearing her pyjama bottoms and was chewing on her toothbrush while the nighty-clad Kaitlin had just thrown a cup of cold water over the older girl and was caught with the empty cup in hand. The eight-year-old grinned up at Cassie who frowned. The similarly nighty-clad Naomi was in the act of tipping another cup of water over her cousin but very quickly thought better of it as Cassie hove into view.

"Bed!"

The three girls giggled and scampered out of the bathroom. Harper pulled on her pyjama top after drying herself off with a towel. She had chosen to share Naomi's bed for the night and she scrambled under the duvet after unceremoniously dumping the towel on the floor beside the various discarded piles of clothing. No attempt had been made to keep the dirty clothes even remotely together. Cassie recognised Kaitlin's top by one window, her trousers and knickers by another, and her socks several feet away, over by the bathroom door. Naomi's and Harper's were similarly scattered to every point of the compass.

"Didn't they teach you _Predators_ how to keep things tidy?" Cassie asked in exasperation as she gathered up three sets of everything.

"Yeah," Naomi replied.

"Only we aren't _Predators_ anymore," Harper added.

"Couldn't you have given up that foul-mouthed skill of swearing and kept the skill of keeping things tidy?"

"Probably," Harper mused.

"Sorry," Kaitlin said with a big smile.

"I've not forgotten about that glass of water..."

"Oh," Kaitlin muttered as Harper and Naomi laughed.

* * *

 ** _Downstairs_**

"I won't waste my breath and ask if they were asleep," Richard Perrin chuckled.

"Far from it," Cassie advised her father with a grin. "I got there just in time to prevent a naval battle in the bathroom."

Sarah grinned at Cassie. She and her younger sister used to enjoy water fights when they were younger much to their parents' chagrin.

"Harper?" Keira ventured.

"No, Kaitlin; with backup from Naomi. Harper was the opposing side by the looks of things."

Richard laughed deeply. It brought back fond memories of his own daughters as they grew up all too fast. Both he and his wife were very happy to have young children in the house again – even if they were children with worrying abilities.

"Keira," Richard announced. "Please look on Blairhoyle as your home until we can find you somewhere more permanent to live. I'll speak with a friend in Whitehall and arrange for your commission to be transferred. You will not need to give up what you have obviously fought very much for."

"I see no benefit with you remaining down south, in Dorset, alone," Alexandra said. "Please stay, for as long, as you wish. Feel free to go back so sort out your affairs. We can look after young Harper – she seems to have settled in very quickly with her former peers."

"Thank you," Keira said slowly. "Thank you, all of you."

* * *

 ** _The following morning – early!  
Tuesday, June 7th_**

"Girls!"

I growled the word into my pillow after glaring at the clock beside my bed.

It was barely 6am and the three girls were up and about. Considering that Cassie's bedroom was a considerable distance from the girl's bedroom, it also indicated that they were _not_ in their bedroom either. Cassie soon found out where the three girls were as she heard loud whispering from outside her door. Something was being planned...

Cassie, though, was no stranger to rowdy behaviour, at least not recently.

* * *

"You ready?" Naomi asked her two compatriots.

"You have remembered that Cassie can defend herself, have you?" Kaitlin reminded her cousin.

"She'll still be asleep," Naomi countered.

"I suppose."

"Well, are we going to attack?" Harper demanded with one hand on the door handle.

* * *

Keira bolted awake as she heard three screams in rapid succession.

They were the screams of young girls. Harper! She bolted out of her bed and ran out onto the landing. Instead of screams, she heard giggling. She turned left and followed the sound. There, after she passed through a small archway, on the right she looked inside Cassie's bedroom. There, she saw Cassie standing a few feet inside the room and at her feet three girls lying on the floor. They were giggling despite some obvious pain.

"They tried to attack me, this morning. Only, their attack was not all that stealthy," Cassie explained with a grin.

"She ambushed us," Harper groaned as she rubbed her slightly bruised side.

"We thought she'd be asleep, not waiting around a corner to slip us over and onto the floor!" Naomi explained.

"I warned you both, but neither of you listened to me."

"Oh, shut up, Kaitlin!" Naomi growled.

* * *

 ** _Forty minutes later_**

 ** _Downstairs_**

"All had a good morning?" Alexandra asked cheerfully.

"Yes, thanks, Mum," Cassie responded just as cheerfully.

"Girls?"

"Could have gone better," Harper replied.

"Oh, yeah!" Kaitlin added.

"Not exactly the best laid plans of the year," Naomi answered with a grin at her fellow conspirators.


	5. Invasion

**_Six weeks previously  
May 2nd, 2016_**

 ** _Vauxhall Cross  
London, United Kingdom_**

"Scotland!"

"Yes, Jasper, Scotland."

"But why? As far as I know, Scotland has not become independent. What good is an MI6 officer there?"

"That brings me to the next topic," C announced.

"I'm not going to like this, am I."

"Not a lot, no. We are transferring you across the river..."

"Five!"

"Yes. Permanent transfer. It's the only option Jasper. While I and many others applaud you for your actions, two weeks ago, and I am very sorry for your loss at that time, there are many who feel that your actions embarrassed the Service."

"But what could I do in Scotland?"

"That I cannot tell you at this point. You will be briefed once you move. I understand there is a substantial pay rise available and you get the usual moving allowance. A range of suitable properties have been made available to you so you can move as soon as you like once you have made your selection. You will also have four-weeks leave. See this as a promotion, Jasper."

"Define 'promotion'!"

* * *

 ** _Friday, June 10th_**

 ** _Scotland_**

I had found out about the secret life that our parents lived, two months previously.

It had been a combination of bad luck on the part of Dad and debatable good timing on the part of Christopher Collins, me. Although, to be honest, I would have preferred never to have known what Mum and Dad did for a living and not just because of the events of that night. I had never suspected anything, during my eleven years of life, while we were living down in England.

I had started getting curious about the times that Mum and Dad had 'vanished' for a day here and a week there – although, only one at a time. Mum did a lot less once I was about seven and my sister was five when she started a new job as a paramedic.

It had all started one dark and stormy Tuesday night – okay, maybe not so dark and stormy.

* * *

 ** _Two months previously  
A Tuesday night_**

 ** _High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire_**

I was supposed to have been in bed – Mum and Dad had very strict rules about going to bed and staying put.

As was usual, Mum and Dad were on the sofa in the living room enjoying some time together. My sister, Charlie, was fast asleep in her bedroom opposite mine. I poked my head around the living room door just as Dad stood up and went over to the window.

"Something's wrong, honey. I can see men in the Kensington's back garden."

The Kensington family were our next-door neighbours. We went to school with their two daughters. As Dad turned away from the window his expression was one which I had never seen before. It was all business and the first thing he did was hold his thumb against the mirror over the fireplace and I saw the space around his thumb turn green. Dad removed his thumb and the mirror swung upwards to reveal a cache of some kind.

..._...

I could see stacks of notes on two shelves – some were the red of £50 notes. Dad ignored those and he reached inside for a large black plastic case with a carry handle on the front. I looked over at Mom and her expression was all business too. She obviously knew about the 'safe' too. Dad placed the black case onto the living room table and after spinning a combination lock, he opened the lid. It was a weapons case!

Dad lifted out a foam insert with what looked like the trigger and stock for a rifle. He placed this to one side and pulled out a black pistol with something attached beneath the barrel as well as four items which went into his pockets and another longer item which he inserted into the base of the pistol. He pulled back the top of the pistol and made his way to the kitchen. Mom replaced the foam insert and then placed the black case back into the hidden safe.

She pressed a small button and the mirror slid closed without a sound.

* * *

 ** _Jasper Collins_**

I moved out of the kitchen door and then to the fence between our two properties.

I peered over and was not happy to see that the back door had been forced open – the frame was bent and the door no longer hung true. I noticed a sentry, just to the side of the garden shed. He was in shadow which to most observers would have made him invisible. But to a seasoned Government Agent who had operated on every continent of the world, he stood out like a dayglo penguin in the Arctic.

With quick steps, I moved down the garden and then I quickly swung myself over the 6-foot fence. I landed, rolled, and came up mere inches from the sentry. The first thing the black-clad man knew of my presence, was my legs as they wrapped around his neck and pulled him down to the grass. I literally squeezed the life out of him until he ceased his frantic struggle for life and I instantly released him. He was still breathing as I stepped back to study my target.

..._...

He wore light-weight black combat trousers with a black flak-vest and boot. His face was covered with a black balaclava which when removed revealed a Caucasian male with dark brown hair cut very short. I found no ID, nothing. I pulled out some paracord and hogtied the sentry. I used his balaclava as a makeshift gag, stuffing it into his mouth. The man had been armed with a large knife, a Glock 23 pistol, and a .40-calibre UMP submachine gun fitted with a suppressor.

He had a radio with an earpiece and a throat microphone. I grabbed the radio and inserted the earpiece into my left ear just in time to catch the tail end of a transmission.

'... targets secure!'

It was an American voice and by the sound of it, they had the Kensington family. I knew little about my neighbours. They kept to themselves and we merely exchanged hellos. Their daughters went to the same schools as Chris and Charlie. As far as I knew, Ryan Kensington was a doctor of some notoriety and the wife was a well-regarded solicitor. Both were acceptable targets for ransom, my professional mind told me.

I checked my Glock 17 pistol and screwed a suppressor into the muzzle. Next, I made my way towards the open back door of my neighbours' house.

* * *

 ** _Fifteen minutes earlier_**

 ** _The Kensington House_**

"Night, Mum!"

"Night, honey – don't wake your sister."

"Would _I_ do a thing like that," thirteen-year-old Olivia responded facetiously.

"Yes, you would," Sophia Kensington laughed. "Dad'll look in on you when he returns from work."

With that, thirteen-year-old Olivia ran down the corridor to her bedroom. She clambered into her bed and turned out the light. Within minutes she was fast asleep.

"Peace and quiet reins!" Ryan Kensington quipped as he walked into the living room a few minutes later. "Let's . . . oh, my God..."

* * *

Three armed men had suddenly materialised, seemingly out of nowhere.

Sophia Kensington screamed as she was seized by her blonde hair and forced to her knees. Another man did the same with her husband. The third man stood before the both of them and oversaw the operation. More screams came from the opposite end of the house as the two girls were roughly seized from their beds. The petrified youngsters were dragged kicking and screaming into the living room where they were forced to kneel beside their parents with their hands on their heads. Having just been roused from a deep sleep, neither girl had the faintest idea about what was going on.

"Daddy!" Olivia was able to sob before she was backhanded across the face.

All four Kensingtons were quickly processed as duct tape was placed over their mouths and their wrists were zip-tied behind their backs. Ryan Kensington had struggled and thus, he had received the barrel of a pistol across his face. The three females sobbed in fear of what was to come.

..._...

Two of the men vanished, but they returned after a few minutes. One nodded at the leader. While they had been absent there had been the obvious sounds of searching as the men had ransacked the study next door. The leader turned to Ryan Kensington and he ripped the tape from the kneeling man's mouth.

"I trust that you will cooperate, Mr Kensington. We need access to your safe and we need it now. Any hesitation or attempt to thwart us will be met with a reprisal. You would not like the results of any reprisal, I can assure you."

Ryan Kensington shook his head firmly without saying a word.

"You put the information in that safe above the welfare of your wife and daughters?"

The leader walked over to the younger of the two near-hysterical girls and he yanked her to her feet by the shoulder. The eleven-year-old shook with fear and she looked to her mother and father for help. The leader seized the young girl's jaw and he turned her face to look up at him.

"A very sweet little girl – shame..."

With that, he ripped off the girl's nightwear leaving her naked before everybody.

"Let me know when you have had enough, Mr Kensington..."

He moved over to the next child and repeated his act of ripping the girl's nightwear off and baring her developing body to all. The leader ran the muzzle of his pistol across the teenage girls breasts as she squirmed in abject fear.

Seeing no reaction from the father, the leader placed the muzzle of his pistol against the younger girl's bare left shoulder and the girl began to whimper. He pulled the trigger. The girl screamed out and she fell to the floor where she writhed in agony as blood soaked into the carpet.

"Plenty more joints to go..."

The room went silent again as the young girl passed out with the pain. Her elder sister had been stunned into silence.

"Eight, seven, nine, four, four, two, eight, six, six, four, one."

"Thank you, Mr Kensington."

..._...

The leader left the room for several moments before he returned to the living room holding a large grey folder in his left hand.

"Mr Kensington, you have been most helpful, goodbye..."

With that, the leader shot Ryan Kensington in the forehead before he did the same to his wife. Both bodies fell together side by side to the floor. He turned to the eldest child, Olivia. She was shaking with fear and she was struggling to comprehend what was occurring before her very eyes.

"I think your sister is past saving – this is purely business, but with a little pleasure..."

The leader raised his .40-calibre Glock 23 pistol to her head and he squeezed the trigger.

* * *

 ** _Jasper Collins_**

The room echoed to the sound of gunfire.

Only it was not the dull boom of the .40-calibre rounds but the sharper crack of the nine-millimetre rounds from Jasper Collins's Glock 17. The first man to die was the leader followed by one of the men to his right. The others dove to the ground the moment the first round exploded out of the 17s muzzle.

"The pleasure is all mine!" he growled.

Jasper made a move towards Olivia who was making a stupid and ill thought out attempt to stand up. Jasper shoved her very roughly to the floor beside the still warm bodies of her dead parents.

"Stay!" he growled with menace in his tone.

Automatic gunfire rattled out as one of the gunmen sprayed the living room from behind a sofa. Jasper paused until the man's weapon locked on empty and he arose firing into the sofa. The gunman fell backwards but his armour had protected him from major injury. He struggled to reload his UMP but he was not fast enough as two nine-millimetre slugs tore his head apart.

More automatic gunfire erupted in Jasper's direction shattering the glass of the patio doors which led out to the garden. Jasper sent half a dozen rounds towards the gunfire as he lay flat on the floor before he swapped out his magazine. As far as he was aware, he had killed four of the team – that just left two...

..._...

Jasper ran towards the door out of the living room. He could hear boots pounding on the staircase. Just as he arrived at the foot of the stairs, he could see the backside of an individual almost at the top. He sent four bullets up the staircase. The gunman received two in the buttocks while the other pair struck a pair of something else and he screamed out in agony as he fell backwards.

The man was so stunned that he never noticed that he had reached the hall at the bottom of the stairs. He never saw the muzzle erupt in flame as a bullet coursed through his brain.

Olivia screamed out. Jasper ran back into the living room just in time to see the last gunman seizing the large grey folder and sending two bullets towards Olivia. He fired two more bullets into the front window, shattering it before he dove past Jasper's bullets and out into the front garden. Jasper had no idea if he had hit the man but first he checked on Olivia.

..._...

She was screaming.

Jasper could see plenty of blood on what remained of her pyjamas but it was difficult to tell what might be hers and what was soaked up from the carpet beneath her. He glanced over the naked girl and he could see where a bullet had grazed her left side. He took a glance at the prone younger girl and was very surprised to see movement in the girl's chest.

Jasper quickly cut the zip-ties of both girls and he seized hold of Olivia's left hand and placed it on to the girl's own side. He then took her right hand and placed it onto her sister's shoulder and he pressed down hard.

"Keep pressure on it."

Jasper was in no mood for bedside niceties as he then dove after the escaping gunman. He could see the gunman as he vaulted the front fence. Jasper rolled on the grass after diving out of the window and he gave chase while swapping out his almost empty magazine. He could hear sirens approaching – he had only minutes, if not seconds to finish the action and call for help before a Police Trojan unit shot him down.

After vaulting the fence, Jasper closed on the gunman and he noticed that the man was limping – at least one bullet had struck home.

"SIS, stop!" Jasper yelled in the distant hope that the man might do what he was told – no such luck, though.

The man simply turned and he sent a stream of automatic gunfire in Japer's direction. Jasper ignored the gunfire and he fired off half a dozen rounds at the gunman who fell to the tarmac just as two Police ARVs came out of the road behind Jasper. As the two Volvo estates skidded to a halt a few yards away, two Police Officers jumped out of each vehicle and they each raised a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun to his shoulder.

"Armed Police, put the gun down!"

..._...

Jasper ejected the magazine and the round from the breech before he placed the pistol on the ground beside him.

"Turn around!"

Jasper turned slowly with his hands part-raised on either side of him.

"Lie down!"

Jasper did as he was ordered just as his wife burst out of their house and ran towards the Police.

"Sergeant, stand down!" Lynn ordered as she approached.

"Ma'am, please stand back!" the Police Sergeant admonished.

"That is my husband and he is SIS."

"James bloody Bond?"

"Funny."

Lynn Collins proffered Jasper's and her own identification. The Police Sergeant swore as he looked at the identification cards before he passed them over to a subordinate for checking.

"MI6 has no jurisdiction within the UK, ma'am."

"This was an extraordinary situation. There was a home invasion next door and my husband reacted."

..._...

A few minutes later, Jasper was brought before the Sergeant. His hands were cuffed behind his back and another officer had gone down the road to inspect the fallen gunman.

"Your wife tells me that you are James Bond. How many?"

"Five dead X-rays, one detained. Two innocents dead and two wounded; one seriously."

The Sergeant turned as one of his subordinates came over with the two ID cards.

"Both are clean, Sergeant."

..._...

While his wife headed back home, Jasper took the Sergeant and his men over to the Kensington house where Paramedics were already tending to the two girls. The bound man in the back garden was taken into custody while each of the dead men were accounted for. Jasper explained his actions while a young officer took notes. The younger Kensington, Jessica, was being taken out to an ambulance.

Her elder sister was in the kitchen where she was having a dressing applied to her left side. She had no need for hospital treatment, so for the moment Jasper took her next door and he gently laid the young girl onto the sofa wrapped in a blanket. The paramedic had given the girl a sedative to help her sleep. Lynn laid another blanket over the youngster and left her to rest.

Jasper turned to the doorway which led to the bedrooms, "You might as well come out, Christopher!"

"Sorry, Dad – I saw it all and I know I shouldn't have."

"We'll talk about it in the morning. Go check on your sister – she must be frightened to death with all the noise."

..._...

"Charlie!"

Christopher was getting annoyed; he knew that his sister would be awake – the noise outside had been enough to awaken the dead. Christopher pushed open the door to his sister's bedroom. It was large and looked out over the front garden. He turned on the light and saw that his sister seemed to be asleep under her duvet.

"Charlie!"

He strode over and yanked back the duvet.

..._...

" _DAD!_ "

Jasper ran towards his son's panicked yell.

"Oh, my God . . . Charlene!" Jasper shouted as he saw his daughter soaked in blood. " _PARAMEDIC!_ We need a paramedic!"

Everything appeared to happen in slow motion. Two paramedics appeared from outside and they rushed into the house. They pushed everybody aside and ripped open the nine-year-olds pyjama top. She was covered in blood but she was still breathing. Jasper knew what a bullet would looked like when he saw one. He turned and yanked back the curtains where he just stared at the single hole in the glazing.

It took several minutes to stabilise the girl so that she could be moved. The stretcher with Charlene Collins securely strapped aboard was quickly loaded into the waiting ambulance along with Lynn Collins and with a curt wave, the ambulance, blue lights flashing, accelerated away from the house and towards the hospital.

..._...

As Christopher Collins watched the ambulance, he saw it slow a hundred yards down the road and then pull over to the side of the road and stop. Several minutes passed as the ambulance sat stationary with its blue lights flashing. Then a door opened and a paramedic climbed out.

And the blue flashing lights . . . they stopped flashing.


	6. All is Revealed

**_Five days later  
Wednesday, June 15th, 2016_**

 ** _Scotland_**

A _lot_ had happened over the preceding five days.

Harper was a different girl. Just being with other kids 'like her' seemed to have brought out the little girl that I remembered. Yes, their 'games' tended to be more like those a group of young boys might play – more play fighting and rough-and-tumble than playing with dolls, but it was still good to see such troubled youngsters smiling and laughing. It was also a relief, to be honest.

I was also pleasantly surprised – almost shocked – to see all three girls _sitting down_ – a miracle in itself – and watching a My Little Pony movie together. It was something incredibly simple, but it linked each of them back to their former lives as innocent little girls. It was also good to see all three girls with tears running down their cheeks by the end of the movie. Harper, not surprisingly, had fitted in as the natural leader of the threesome. As I understood it, Harper had been a 'Phase 2', therefore she was technically senior to the other two girls. Not that they seemed to mind in the slightest.

However, under her leadership, Harper tended to get all three of them into varying degrees of trouble on a worryingly regular basis!

..._...

On the other side of the coin, it was great to spend time with Sarah and Cassie. They were both wonderful people, as were their parents. However, if we were to stay in Scotland, we would need our own personal space, therefore, Harper and I had found a house in Edinburgh that we liked and we were going back to see it that afternoon. I was then intending on going back home for a few days, to pack the essentials while everything else would be moved by the MoD. I was slightly in awe about how much pull Commander Perrin had with the MoD – there was something else about the Perrins that nobody was telling me.

I had also met their friends; Cameron, Natasha, and Eric. They were all a laugh but while they were obvious friends, I saw something else connecting them.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

 ** _Edinburgh_**

Cassie had brought us into Edinburgh in her Audi.

My car was still down south so the lift had been much appreciated.

"Come on, kid – the lady is there to show us around."

Harper quickly climbed out of the car and she looked up at the small house. Would it be a fresh start for us both? Only time would tell.

..._...

The house was compact and I thought it looked quite quaint. Harper just thought it looked 'okay'. It was an older property and it had a secure garden to one side – not that I needed to worry much about Harper's personal safety! We had a lounge and a separate dining room which had a large bay window. Beyond that, there was a well-equipped kitchen and a utility room that led outside. There was a downstairs bedroom which I thought would make a good study for me.

Upstairs, there were three further bedrooms, the one on the left at the top of the stairs would be mine. Harper lay down on the carpet in the next largest bedroom which looked out over the street to the front of the property.

"This room is mine!" she declared happily.

I turned to the estate agent.

"We'll take it!"

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Harper was _not_ happy that it might be weeks before we could move into our new home, but she consoled herself that she could spend more time causing trouble with her new friends.

I received a nasty shock that evening when the girls had been given the supposedly simple and benign task of emptying the dishwasher. From the next room, I could hear Kaitlin cheering for some reason or other and instinct suggested that I should check on the three wayward youngsters. On entering the kitchen, I was stunned to find Harper and Naomi engaged in a knife fight with two very large kitchen knives! Not surprisingly, Kaitlin was cheering them both on and generally encouraging the fight to get more dangerous.

"Stop!" I yelled and the two older girls froze.

"Just a bit of fun, sis," Harper tried as she placed the knife down on the kitchen side.

"I know you've been trained in this type of fighting but that is no excuse for you to fight each other like animals. What if one of you had been hurt? Did anybody think of that?"

The expressions added up to a unanimous 'no'.

"Keep this up and you will all be banned from touching a knife – even to eat."

"We can still kill without a knife," Harper muttered.

"Not helping, Harper!"

..._...

I was also learning much about my not-so-dependent sister.

All three girls had remarkable figures due to them all being very fit – I had always thought that I was very fit but I had nothing on them! There was barely an ounce of fat between them; their biceps, abs, and thighs were almost all muscle. I had also discovered, during some not-to-be-recommended 'play fighting' with Harper, that she was _strong_! That was also the moment when I discovered that _Predators_ did _not_ 'play fight' . . . they would just fight. More than once, Harper would burst into tears and apologise to me profusely as I called out in pain when she got a little carried away in her attacks.

The girls had a lot of energy and 'normal' activities tended to bore them – hence the knife fight. Therefore, the three of them often went out into the gardens to spar together. I would cringe as I heard the muted screams and yells of pain from a distance; I could not bear to watch. At least one of them would return with a new bruise, cut, or scrape on their bodies but they would otherwise be in good spirits.

Fighting and the pain which went with it had obviously been a key part of their past lives.

* * *

Harper put Naomi down for the fourth time that afternoon – Kaitlin was nursing a sore elbow over by the trees; another victim of Harper.

"You really enjoy this, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, that's me: a lean, mean, killing machine!" Harper grinned.

"I am _never_ going to get used to this," I grimaced as Cassie walked up.

"It's a real strange world we live in," Cassie replied.

"Young kids, made to fight each other and learn to kill a dozen different ways . . ."

"A dozen?" Harper scoffed as she walked past me on her way towards Kaitlin. "Try over fifty!"

"See!" I complained. "No remorse; she's cold as a block of dry ice."

"Give them a chance. They're still learning how to be little girls again and how to behave in civilised society," Cassie pointed out.

"Tell me about it! That trip to McDonald's earlier was a disaster; I thought the manager was about to call the Police!"

"Kids letting off steam."

"I could have let off a hand grenade in there and it would have been nothing to those three girls!"

Cassie laughed. "Point taken."

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Friday, June 17th  
Evening_**

"You getting rid of us?"

I laughed. The three girls had come back from messing about in the garden to find three packed holdalls on the living room floor. They genuinely looked very worried.

"Whatever it was, we're sorry . . . and we didn't do it," Kaitlin tried.

"We're going on a trip."

"Where?"

"That's for you girls to figure out."

"Cassie!"

"You'll need these, though," she said as she handed out three identical burgundy booklets. "Passports!"

* * *

 ** _Later that evening_**

 ** _Edinburgh Airport_**

"Wow!" Harper exclaimed in awe as she saw the aircraft that would take us stateside.

The Gulfstream G650 was large and way beyond luxurious.

"Wayne Enterprises?" I queried.

"A good friend," Natasha replied somewhat cryptically.

* * *

 ** _516 nautical miles to the east and one, infuriating, hour later_**

"Are we there yet?"

"No, Kaitlin; for the fourteenth time – NO!"

"How long?"

"Too fucking long!"

"Moody!" Kaitlin muttered as she retreated from Cassie.

* * *

 ** _774 nautical miles and ninety minutes later_**

 ** _41,000 feet over the North Atlantic_**

There was about to be a murder.

Well, three to be precise.

"Did you three bring your parachutes?" Keira asked with a smile.

The three girls shook their heads and looked worried.

"Shame – who wants to step out for a moment?"

"Now?" Naomi asked?

"Yes," Keira confirmed. "If any of you learn to fly then fine."

"We're fine," Harper confirmed as she looked from Cassie and Sarah, to Keira, and then to Cameron and Natasha.

"Well, sit the fuck down, then!" Natasha growled angrily and all three girls bolted for their seats and fastened their lap belts. "And shut the fuck up!"

Cameron smirked at his sister who just shrugged.

* * *

 ** _Friday, 17th June  
Late evening_**

 ** _3,229 nautical miles east of Edinburgh and after a total of six, very tedious, hours_**

 ** _Chicago Midway International Airport  
United States of America_**

The landing was smooth and routine.

After a brief check of everybody's passports, all eight climbed into an enormous eight-seater 4x4 that had awaited their arrival at the airport. Cameron drove, turning the vehicle onto the I-90 East and beginning the twenty-two-mile journey to their destination.

"Cool!" Harper breathed as she stared out of the window.

Kaitlin was wide-eyed and uncharacteristically speechless as she took everything in. Naomi was silent as well as she took in everything that she saw. Sarah and Keira had both been to Chicago before, as had Cassie, Cameron, and Natasha.

..._...

"Cassie?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Where are you taking us?"

"To a place that will blow your mind, Naomi."

The nine-year-old looked dubious, but she simply pulled a face and sat quietly. Kaitlin, however, she was having none of it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were about to surprise us with something."

"A wise girl," Natasha acknowledged with a smile.

"All will be revealed in time, little ladies," Cameron added as he threw a reassuring smile at Harper.

"Talk about cloak and dagger!" Keira muttered with a glance at Sarah. Both were as much in the dark about their destination as the three girls.

..._...

"You've heard of _Vengeance_ , right?"

"You know we have," Naomi replied. "They're on the news almost every other week."

"Get with it!" Harper suggested as she rolled her eyes.

"So, you've heard of _Fusion_?"

"Well, dur!" Kaitlin replied. "They're the ones that rescued us."

"They put an end to that hell," Harper added darkly.

..._...

As they neared the end of the journey, the 4x4 turned off the road and they headed directly towards a rather bleak-looking warehouse.

"I think we're about to get car-jacked," Harper commented as she studied the dubious surroundings outside the vehicle.

"Welcome to _Fort Fusion_ ," Cameron said theatrically.

"Yeah, right!" Naomi responded, her tone dripping sarcasm.

"We may be young," Kaitlin added. "But we ain't stupid!"

"Woah..." Harper breathed as the warehouse swallowed the 4x4 and they rushed towards a concrete wall.

The three girls screamed, along with Sarah and Keira.

..._...

The large 4x4 was soon descending the tight concrete ramp before it emerged into bright lights and came to a stop beside several other vehicles which were parked in front of a tall glass shield that blocked further progress into the immense cavern.

"O – M – G..." the three girls muttered together as they instantly recognised _Iron Hide_ and _Beast_ , not to mention the purple Panigale that belonged to Hit Girl – for some reason, it had a noticeable gouge in the right fairing below the 'HG' logo.

Cassie exited the 4x4 and she dragged two very stunned and uncharacteristically speechless girls with her. An equally stunned Keira and Sarah climbed out with the open-mouthed Harper. A young woman with blonde hair awaited them and she strode forwards through a gap in the glass shield.

"Morning, Nemesis. Good trip?"

"Perfect, thanks."

Naomi and Kaitlin looked up at Cassie with awe etched into their faces as they tried to make sense of everything.

"You . . . _you_ are Nemesis?" Naomi exploded and Cassie nodded with a grin.

"Does that make you two, Crimson and Drift?" Harper asked as she studied Natasha and Cameron.

"Talk about sensory overload!" Kaitlin quipped.

"All of you, please meet Mindy Lizewski," Cassie said.

The three girls and then Sarah and Keira all shook hands politely with Mindy as Cassie introduced each of them to her friend.

"I also go by the name: Hit Girl," Mindy offered. The three girls and the two women just stood there, their lower jaw's hanging open. It was almost a full minute before any of them could speak.

"Speechless women, that's what I like!" another voice chuckled and both girls looked up at a large man who came and stood behind Mindy.

"Kick-Ass . . ." breathed Naomi.

"A bright girl," Dave replied with amusement. "Dave, Dave Lizewski."

Mindy rolled her eyes and held out her hands to the three girls.

"Let's go meet the rest of the team."

"My brain just exploded!" Kaitlin murmured.

* * *

 ** _Safehouse F_**

The place was amazing!

Cassie gave me a cheeky grin – she had obviously been to the place before, as had Cameron and Natasha. My sister the vigilante – I was still struggling with that.

"It's wonderful, isn't it, Sarah?" Cassie asked her sister.

"Amazing!"

Sarah turned on the spot, taking in everything around her. She paused as she saw a young girl, about ten-years-old and not all that much taller than Naomi or Harper. The young girl looked just like any other, but Sarah knew that she was just like Harper, Naomi, and Kaitlin – there was something in the eyes. Mind you, the fact that the young girl had a holstered pistol on her right thigh, also showed her to be more than just a normal young girl. She wore a dark grey uniform, just like that which Mindy wore, except she wore a single, vertical silver bar on the collar of her high-necked top as opposed to Mindy's star.

The girls followed Mindy up a set of steel steps where they stopped before the uniformed girl.

* * *

At the top of the steel staircase, the three girls were met by a slim girl, not much older than themselves, with her blond hair tied back into a ponytail.

"Hi. I'm Stephanie Lizewski, but you can call me Steph. I was a _Predator_ , just like the three of you. I was known as Psyche back then . . ."

"Oh, wow," Harper interrupted. "You're famous."

"Please don't," a tall, brown haired girl with an Irish accent suggested as she stopped beside Stephanie – behind _her_ was a tall blonde-haired girl. "We have enough trouble with her ego as it is. I'm Saoirse – please call me SD. I was a _Predator_ , too . . . Foxtail."

"Were you both there when . . .?" Naomi asked with a pained look on her face.

"Yes. We were in Toulouse to take down _Urban Predator_ ," Saoirse replied.

"I was there too," the blonde-haired girl said and she smiled as she approached. "I'm Morgan; although back then, you knew me as Raven."

"It was _you_ ," Kaitlin said quietly as she ran forwards and gave Morgan a hug. "You found us and you saved us."

Naomi did the same and she smiled up at Morgan. Harper looked at Stephanie and then over at Mindy.

"Stephanie, Mindy – you were both there that night, in that dormitory. You helped us to rebel against _them_. Without you both . . . I . . . I . . . I might never have found my sister."

"It's okay, Harper," Mindy said soothingly as the nine-year-old girl hugged her. Mindy appeared uncomfortable with the contact but she went with it.

* * *

They all sat down in the Briefing Room while Chloe and Joshua appeared with drinks for everybody.

"Why are you showing us all this?" Naomi asked.

"Are we going to become a part of _Vengeance_?" Harper ventured with a tinge of hope in her voice.

"You're very smart, Harper," Mindy commented and the younger girl blushed.

"Does that mean we can go out and kick people's arses?" Naomi enquired and her younger cousin nodded vigorously.

"There's a _bit_ more to it than that," Cassie suggested with a nod from Natasha.

"No there isn't," Joshua commented which drew a glare from Mindy.

Chloe just laughed at the three girls.

"So sweet and so adorable – bit like Megan was, before she started puberty."

"You taking the piss?" Naomi bristled.

"No, honey. I just love the way you say 'arse' instead of 'ass' – so gorgeous."

Naomi walked right up to Chloe who in turn stood up to meet the girl. Naomi looked directly up into Chloe's smiling face.

"You and me, bitch. Right the fuck, now! Get your bloody arse on that mat, girl!"

Chloe grinned and she looked over at Cassie who just rolled her eyes and shrugged.

..._...

Naomi walked down to the mat, kicking off her shoes as she went, followed closely by her cousin.

"Move it! Hate to think that you were _all_ talk, Shadow!"

"What makes you think I'm Shadow?" Chloe asked as she kicked off her own trainers and followed the girls onto the mat.

"Stands to reason – Shadow looks hot and so do you," Kaitlin replied as she toed off her own shoes and casually kicked them out of the way.

Chloe looked generally lost for words but Kaitlin's comment had been intended as a distraction and Chloe soon yelled out in pain as the younger girl quickly kicked the older girl in the side. Naomi got in on the act and she planted a foot squarely in Chloe's chest which sent the older girl flying backwards.

"I gotta get me some of this!" Harper called out as she ran down the mat and kicked off her own shoes.

Chloe had scrambled back to her feet and she rapidly sent Kaitlin flying backwards with a well-aimed kick and she brought Naomi high in the air and then back down hard onto the mat. Both girls screamed out but neither were hurt apart from maybe their egos. Harper span around and she kicked Chloe in the shoulder but Chloe had seen the attack coming and she moved with the blow but caught Harper in the chest with a fist. Chloe followed up by kicking out Harper's legs from under her and planting the girl firmly down onto the mat.

There was a brief round of applause from everyone present.

..._...

Saoirse and Stephanie had been watching the three younger girls and their body moments intently. Stephanie went over and helped Naomi back to her feet. She then whispered a few words of advice into her ear before she moved over to Kaitlin. Saoirse was doing the same thing with Harper. Chloe scowled.

"What are you two bitches up to?"

"Nothing!" Saoirse and Stephanie replied together with feigned innocence.

Chloe took up a position at one end of the mat while the three girls spread out with Harper in the centre and Naomi to her left. Kaitlin took up the space to Harper's right. Chloe scowled at the girls for a few moments and then with a smirk, she ran forwards. The three girls did the same. Chloe took in her advancing opponents and gauged her attack. Then total pandemonium ensued.

At a command from Harper, Kaitlin dived to her left and cannoned into Chloe's legs taking them out from under the fifteen-year-old. Chloe struggled to recover but she was prevented from regaining her feet by Naomi who landed on Chloe's back and she seized hold of the bigger girl's legs and wrenched them back. Harper moved in and kicked out at Chloe's right wrist as the senior vigilante struggled for purchase to throw off Naomi. Then Harper sized that same wrist and twisted it backwards and upwards towards Chloe's neck.

Chloe yelled out in pain as Kaitlin looked deep into her eyes.

"You ready to yield, yank?"

* * *

 _This storyline will continue in_ **Chapter 287: Vengeance** _of_ **Forsaken** _._


	7. Scotland

**_Friday, 17th June, 2016  
Early evening_**

 ** _Scotland  
United Kingdom_**

We were _not_ the most orthodox family in the world.

"Get out of my room!" I yelled and the two eleven-year-olds scampered out laughing and giggling.

Though they both drove me around the bend, I was relieved that they _were_ able to laugh and giggle. Especially, after what they had both been through. The three of us had shared a single violent event just eight weeks previously. I felt that it had been much worse for my younger sister, Jess; not only had she lost her parents, just as I had, but she had also been savagely wounded and, as a direct result, she had spent a month in hospital. The cast had only come off her shoulder the previous week and she was still relearning how to use her left arm. While I too had been wounded, my wound had only been a simple flesh wound which had healed fully within the first month. As for my new step-brother, he had lost somebody too, but he got on with Jess really, really, well and the two of them could _not_ keep out of trouble!

..._...

I had always thought of my former neighbours, and now step-parents, as boring. Then, I had found out what my new step-parents used to do for a living. Without them, though, the Kingston family would have been completely wiped out. Sometimes, I cried at night and I wished that I had died too; survivor's guilt they called it, but then I would be very grateful for my second chance at life and for that of my sister. It was a strange feeling to have parents – even step-parents – who killed for a living, and _not_ be freaked out about it – apparently, their own kids had never even known. Jess and Chris had taken to it a lot better than I had.

Then, we had all been uprooted from everything that we had ever known and driven north – a long way north – all the way to Scotland. I had never been so far north and I was a little concerned that Scotland might not have Facebook but Jessica had told me to stop being so stupid and Chris had laughed.

Okay, I was not the most tech-savvy!

* * *

 ** _One week previously_**

None of the kids had even seen their new home – not until the day that they drove north.

The drive had been long and arduous not least because of three tired kids who just wanted to arrive and rest. They were each fed up of sitting in traffic jam after traffic jam as they meandered up the country's motorway network. Finally, after many hours, they arrived at their destination.

"Woah!" Olivia breathed as they swept through a set of electric cast iron gates and then up the tree-lined drive in the Jaguar XJL to the gravel turning circle directly before the main house which was a stunning white on the outside.

"It's amazing!" Jessica muttered to herself.

"It's enormous!" Christopher chipped in.

..._...

The house was referred to as Moss-side Hall of Boquhapple and was built in 1991 on the site of a ruined farm steading. The building was constructed of harled brick under an overhanging slate roof. The house was approached by a stone terrace which led up to steps to the portico with double wooden doors.

In the reception hall, a sweeping staircase led upwards before splitting to the left and right to the same galleried landing on the first floor. At the top of the stairs, Jasper pointed to the room on the right.

"The teenager goes in there."

"Cool!"

Olivia vanished into her new room. Jasper escorted the remaining youngsters into the room on the left.

"One of you gets this room and through the bathroom, over there, is another room for the other one."

Jessica walked into the bathroom and then looked through into the other bedroom. She came back and looked at Christopher.

"You _dare_ come in while I'm in the shower and I'll cut your balls off!"

"Jessica!" Jasper exclaimed.

"I'm a girl; I need . . ."

". . . to apologise!" Olivia finished as she entered the bedroom and clamped a hand over her sister's mouth.

Jessica pulled her sister's hand away and looked over at Jasper.

"Sorry."

"Jessica?" Olivia hinted.

"Sorry, Chris. I'm a girl; I need privacy."

Olivia laughed

"Jess, you have _nothing_ for Chris to see," Olivia reminded her younger sister.

"Do, too."

"Nothing!" Olivia persisted with a grin.

"Okay – but I will have."

"Yes, you will."

Jessica turned back to Chris.

"Chris, could I have this room so I can be next to my sister?"

"Of course, you can, little sis."

"You're only a week older than me, not so big brother!"

* * *

The unpacking had been long and tedious but the essentials had been put away.

Jessica had asked if she should put photos of Mum and Dad up and I had said yes. I knew that Jasper and Lynn would not mind and they had told me as much. As far as they were concerned they were just helping to take care of Jessica and me, not replacing our parents. I thought it important that Jessica never forgot our parents. She was young and I knew that her mind was often on other things but I wanted her to remember Mum and Dad as they were.

By the end of the very long day, everybody was very tired and the adults were cranky. To save overt warfare, Jasper had ordered the two younger kids to their bedrooms soon after dinner. As a 'responsible teenager' – Jessica had laughed at that – I was allowed to stay up and help until I felt it was time for bed. Eventually, I could not keep my eyes open, so I headed upstairs. I checked in on the youngsters and I was surprised to not hear them as I came up the stairs. The reason for the silence became apparent.

The two youngsters had both fallen asleep on Chris' bed.

* * *

 ** _Saturday, 18th June  
Early evening_**

 ** _Moss-side Hall_**

"Chris, honey, could you set the table for dinner, please?"

"Yeah, Mum."

"Jessica – help Chris, please . . ."

"I'm watching TV . . ."

"I'm working out your pocket money . . ."

There was a brief scrambling sound and my sister quickly bolted off the chair all smiles and headed for the dining room. I just rolled my eyes and went back to my Facebook. Sanity came from my friends and as long as I could talk to them, I was fine.

I just hoped that my life could return to normal and that nothing weird would happen.

* * *

 ** _Monday, 20th June_**

 ** _Government Communications Headquarters  
The Doughnut, Cheltenham, England_**

"Good morning, Commanders. I am Commander Lawrence and I will be briefing you on your new posting."

The Commander paced up and down for a moment before he turned to Jasper.

" _Vengeance_."

Jasper looked taken aback for a moment, however, as was the fact for most naval officers, he was well used to unorthodox briefing methods.

"The verb or the vigilante organisation?" he replied quickly.

"The latter."

"A paramilitary organisation based on the American _Fusion_ , I believe."

"Very good, Commander. You will be their MI5 contact, taking over from me . . . locally."

"What!"

Commander Lawrence chuckled.

" _Vengeance_ is just what you described it as. However, they are partially funded and often tasked by HMG."

"HMG supports vigilantism?"

"It is a curse of the modern world, Commander. Too many arseholes that need to die but no death penalty."

"You're telling me that _Vengeance_ is supported by HMG and is therefore operating outside the law?" Lynn Collins asked.

"For a certain amount of what they do, yes."

Jasper groaned.

"By listening to this we have already been deemed to have accepted the posting and we are now delving into special compartmented information?" Jasper stated.

Lawrence smiled deviously.

"Got it in one, Commander."

"Okay – you want us to be handlers for an organisation of unknown idiots who hide behind masks while acting as judge, jury, and executioner on the streets of the United Kingdom," Jasper announced without any attempt at hiding his annoyance.

Lawrence went very serious for a moment.

"I know _each and every one_ of those 'idiots' and I have seen them each fight for justice and for those who cannot fight for themselves. I will not hear a word raised against them, _from anybody_. I would suggest that you get to know them first before you begin judging them, Commander Collins."

Commander Collins took the obvious veiled threat for what it was.

"My apologies. As you say, I should get to know them first _before_ I jump to any conclusions."

"Okay – I will now run you through the members of _Vengeance_ and how they came to be who they currently are. The organisation is headed by fraternal twins, Cameron and Natasha King . . ."

* * *

 ** _Three hours later . . ._**

"As you can see, they had a traumatic time in France but they accomplished their mission and _Urban Predator_ was no more. Any questions?"

Jasper and Lynn Collins just sat there in shocked silence. Both were stunned by everything that had just been thrown at them. They had been informed about _Fusion_ , Hit Girl, _Urban Predator_ , The Chicago Vigilantes, Gotham, The Waterloo Killings, the mysterious activities on The Rock a few months previously, and many other events. Some of the events were new to them while others were either believed to be apocryphal or events that were deemed unbelievable.

"Okay – that is a lot to handle. Will our family be put at risk?" Lynn finally asked.

"No. Both _Vengeance_ and _Fusion_ are good people – if anything, they will be safer. You and your family would be joining a larger family. You would gain the protection of some very capable people. If the shit hit the fan as it were, you could expect Hit Girl to come to your aid."

"She comes to the UK often?"

"A lot more than she used to," Commander Lawrence admitted. "Usually she comes on business, in which case somebody usually dies quite violently; Hit Girl has a twist for the dramatic."

Jasper looked over at his wife and they both smiled.

"We're in!" Jasper concluded.

* * *

 ** _Tuesday, 21st June_**

 ** _Moss-side Hall, Scotland_**

School had been fun, but it had been a long day and I was _very_ tired.

While I loved my new bedroom and my new bed, I was apprehensive every time that I slid under the soft duvet and closed my eyes. I knew that the nightmare would come, just as it always did. I would be back in my old bedroom at my old house with my family still alive. I would be rudely awakened and dragged out of my bed by a foul-smelling individual. The terror I had felt at having a strange man in my bedroom was enormous. I had screamed. I had kicked. Nothing prevented my being dragged into the living room where I had found more strange men.

Jessica and I were forced to kneel beside our parents with our hands on our heads. Jessica was sobbing and shaking with fear. I had felt confused, disorientated. Then when I tried to get an explanation from Daddy, I was struck by the back of somebody's hand. The pain had been extreme and I did not resist as my hands were bound and tape was placed over my mouth. I shook with the terror that had taken over my body.

I was forced to witness Jessica being stripped naked before all the strange men (she never spoke about it and I hoped she had forgotten about it). Then it had been my turn. I was yanked to my feet and despite my wordless pleading, my pyjamas were ripped off me. Nobody had ever seen me naked and despite the terror, I felt ashamed as the men ran their eyes over my body. I could not believe that Daddy was putting me and Jessica through such torture; what could have been so important?

The man had touched me with the end of his pistol. I had squirmed as the cold metal passed over my breasts; I felt violated and I dreaded what might happen to me next. Then everything moved very swiftly to the next level as Jessica was shot in the shoulder. I tried to scream but I could not – I could not believe what I had just witnessed. Was Jessica dead? There was so much blood. Daddy had given in and called out a string of numbers.

After a few minutes the men had returned and that man looked me over and I felt myself shaking with abject fear. Was he going to touch me? Or worse? Oh, my God! The man just shot Daddy! The man just shot Mummy! The man then raised the pistol to my head and I thought I was going to die . . .

I was almost deafened as gunfire exploded out all around me. I did not know what to do so I tried to stand up but then I was shoved down beside my dead parents. Somebody told me to 'Stay!' like I was a dog. There was lots more gunfire and then after what seemed like hours but must have only been minutes, Jasper appeared. I must have been screaming as my mouth was open. I felt wet; I was covered in blood – my parents' blood. The ties on my wrists were cut and I felt my left hand guided to my side where I felt more blood – had I been wounded?

My right hand was placed onto Jessica's shoulder and pressed down. I was told to keep pressure on it which I did, then Jasper was gone. I barely remembered the rest as I was helped off the floor and my wound was tended to. Then I felt somebody carrying me and laying me down . . .

I had awoken to find myself on the sofa in a strange room which turned out to be our neighbours' front room. I would awake for real after that and I would be bathed in sweat and often screaming. Each time I would find either Jasper or Lynn there soothing me back to sleep.

As far as I knew, Jessica did not have any severe nightmares but I had no idea why.

* * *

 ** _Wednesday, 22nd June_**

 ** _Moss-side Hall, Scotland_**

The kids were all at school.

Lynn was busy unpacking another of the seemingly endless stream of boxes from the garage. Jasper was reading through the seemingly endless stream of files on his secure laptop. Each file related to either _Fusion_ , _Vengeance_ , _Urban Predator_ , or a whole host of corrupt people and criminals that the vigilante organisations had put down since _Fusion's_ inception. As he was opening a file entitled: 'The D'Amico Family', there came a sharp tone indicating somebody at the main gate. Jasper examined the CCTV image and saw a tall man in a dark suit standing beside his Ford Mondeo saloon.

"Hello?"

"Courier, sir."

"Identification?"

An MI5 identity card was held up to the screen. Jasper released the gate and headed for the front door while the courier drove up the drive. The courier climbed out of his car and walked towards the Commander.

"Identification, please, Commander."

Jasper pulled out his own MI5 identification and the courier checked it out before handing over a large package which Jasper had to sign for.

"Thank you, Commander."

With that, the courier left and Jasper went back inside the house. He went directly the Library, with Lynn in tow. There, they locked the door and opened the package. Inside, was a file containing photos and several hundred sheets of paper – plus a note with a secure video-conferencing reference.

"Somebody wants to talk with us," Jasper chuckled as he dialled up the VC kit.

..._...

After a few moments authentication, an image appeared on the forty-inch screen that was mounted on the wall above the fireplace in the Library.

"Good morning, Commanders!" Commander Craig Lawrence said cheerfully from his office in London.

"Commander."

"Sorry to disturb your morning, but we have a situation that involves you both, directly. On Tuesday evening, a Government Data Storage Facility was infiltrated and a single data storage device taken. Now, you'll both be wanting to know how this involves the two of you – well, the data stolen just happened to be the digitised version of the file your neighbours were killed for and . . ."

Commander Lawrence did _not_ have to continue . . . the death of their daughter was still very fresh in their minds. After a pause, the Commander continued.

"It was not just the data stolen, which intrigued us, it was also the method used . . ."

A video appeared on the screen. It was obviously from a CCTV system and was in full colour with the usual date and time stamps along the bottom of the image. A small shape appeared on the video at around 01:30. It looked like a person in a black hooded-top with black trousers and shoes.

"It looks like a kid!" Lynn exclaimed.

After a few minutes, the person turned towards a camera for just a moment.

"It's a little girl – she's tiny!" Lynn exclaimed again in genuine surprise.

"Yes – we believe she may be a _Predator_ ," Lawrence explained as the video ended. "Notice how she's limping; she's been hurt, so obviously being mistreated too."

"I've not finished reading the _Urban Predator_ bumph, yet – do they come that young?" Jasper enquired.

"Unfortunately, they do," Lawrence replied. "I personally know a girl who was only seven when she was taken as a _Predator_."

"My God!" Lynn breathed.

"Since _Urban Predator_ was taken apart, we have been trying to trace every child involved. We have many missing – in the hundreds. We know some are dead – massacred – we are still matching names to remains. We know some may have escaped and they are either on their own out there, or they are being used by some unscrupulous bastards."

"The girl may be doing this of her own free will," Lynn commented.

"Don't believe so – we've yet to come across any _Predators_ who have preferred killing to having a family life. Anything is possible and we must keep an open mind."


	8. A New Threat

_This is the continuation from_ **Chapter 289: The Killing Room** _of_ **Forsaken** _._

* * *

 ** _Wednesday, 22nd June, 2016_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
United Kingdom, Scotland_**

It was one of those very rare occasions when the three girls were unable to speak.

For most, it was a blessing as silence had become a rare commodity ever since the girls had come on the scene. The return from the United States had heralded the unveiling of _Vengeance_ to the three ex- _Predators_. The girls had been stunned by the Command Centre and amazed at the building which housed it. In total silence, they had each taken in Q with his enormous screens and other high-tech wizardry in the basement. They had taken in the combat suits and the three girls were each tinged with envy as they ran their hands over the armour.

Cassie had allowed each of them to hold her Katana – with a warning not to touch the wickedly sharp blade. A few whispered words were exchanged between the girls as they were led to the out-buildings and the transport. There, they stood in awe as they took in the KTM 1290 Super Duke GT in dark grey which belonged to Nemesis, the Triumph Tiger Sport in dark blue which Drift rode, and the Triumph Speed 94 in crimson – which of course belonged to Crimson. Next had come the two armoured 4x4 Range Rover Sentinels known as _Sabre_ and _Scimitar_.

Kaitlin had looked like her brain might explode with all the new information. As for Harper and Naomi, their eyes were open wide enough to endanger their eyeballs.

There was one more surprise – not just for the girls, but for all.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

The combat suits for the girls were not yet ready, but their on-duty uniforms had arrived along with those for all of _Vengeance_.

The uniforms were based on the Royal Navy's new action working dress referred to as the Personal Clothing System or PCS. For _Vengeance_ , the system consisted of a navy-blue T-shirt over which a blue fire-retardant lightweight jacket was worn. The jacket was, in turn, tucked into a pair of blue fire-retardant trousers with a blue stable belt. Both the jacket and trousers were lined with multiple layers of lightweight Kevlar. The trousers had large pockets on either leg. The jacket was designed to allow the sleeves to be easily rolled up and had an open collar.

On the left arm, a Union Flag was worn. Above the left breast pocket, the wearer's name was embroidered in black on white tape while on the opposite side there was a similar embroidered tape that read ' **VENGEANCE** '. In the centre of the shirt, there was a front sternum strap for a vertical rank slide which bore the rank of the wearer.

Black, lightweight boots were worn on the feet, with a mask to finish off the uniform.

..._...

Everybody took their time checking each other out, not to mention themselves in a mirror.

Crimson and Drift were both 'Senior Operators' and therefore, they each bore a single red and gold crown on their rank slide. Nemesis bore two red and gold 'pips' on her rank slide as a 'Junior Operator'. Q bore the same insignia. There was but a single member of _Vengeance_ of 'Operator' rank, with three red and gold 'pips', and that was Scorpion. As well as the embroidered badges ' **SCORPION** ' and ' **VENGEANCE** ', she also bore a set of embroidered 'wings' above her name. The rank insignia was based on that worn by officers of the Royal Marines.

That just left the three _Predators_.

Polaris was the 'Senior Trainee Operator' and as such she bore a single 'pip' on her rank slide. Prowl and Glide each had a single gold and red rank stripe based on that of a lance-corporal of the Royal Marines. The three girls wore their uniform smartly and with considerable pride. Extra effort had gone into ensuring that they were perfect in every way – that was the _Predator_ embedded in each one of the girls.

Scorpion put her foot in it and she made the mistake of saying that they all looked 'sweet'.

" _Sweet!_ " Polaris had groaned. "I am embarrassed to call you my sister . . ."

"You take that back!" Glide growled with added menace.

"I'll allow 'deadly', or maybe 'lethal' . . . but ' _sweet_ ' – I ask you!" Prowl added in disgust.

"Sorry . . .," Scorpion muttered to laughter from Nemesis and Crimson.

* * *

 ** _Later . . ._**

Keira faced her sister on the mat.

The two girls were spaced about three feet apart and they were both barefoot. They each wore a navy-blue t-shirt and shorts, both of which sported the twin-sabres of _Vengeance_. Harper studied her sister and she concluded that her sister had kept herself reasonably fit while in the Royal Navy.

"Hit me!" Harper ordered out of the blue.

After a second's hesitation, Keira slapped her sister.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Harper cried out in disgust. "You a fucking pussy or what? Get a goddamn grip, Scorpion, or you ain't going to last thirty fucking seconds out there!"

Keira's temper flared and she slapped her younger sister hard around the face. Harper screamed out in pain then dabbed the left side of her mouth and she looked down at her hand – a small amount of fresh blood was visible.

"Better – still a pussy strike . . . close your hand and use your fist. Again!"

Keira went to strike Harper but the strike was intercepted and Harper seemingly effortlessly flipped her sister over and down onto the mat, pinning her.

"I am _not_ a china fucking doll, sis; the sooner you understand that, the fucking better! I am a fucking _Predator_. I am a killer. I can take a beating, believe me. Now, I know we both want each other to live, so let's get back to trying to kill each other, right?"

Keira felt humiliated. Her nine-year-old sister was ordering her about like she was some damn new recruit down at HMS Raleigh – no goddammit, enough was enough! Keira rammed her left elbow behind her and caught Keira in the stomach. The younger girl fell back and Keira was able to get back to her feet ready for the next strike.

Harper smiled as she struggled to catch a breath.

* * *

 ** _Thursday, 23rd June_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
United Kingdom, Scotland_**

For some reason, Jasper felt concerned about where they were going and what they were going to do once they arrived; it was like nothing he had ever done in his eighteen years of working for the British Government.

Jasper slowed and then turned the Jaguar XJL to the left, off the B-road. He stopped, almost immediately, before a pair of black-painted, wrought-iron gates. Just as he was about to climb out of the car, the gates began to open. Jasper looked over at his wife who just shrugged and she nodded towards the driveway which beckoned ahead and then curved around to the left. The driveway was quite stunning and the majority was tree-lined before it swept around to the right and the main house came into sight.

"Very nice!" Jasper commented and his wife nodded approvingly.

Jasper pulled his Jaguar up alongside a smaller F-Type Jaguar and a larger Overfinch Range Rover. The large wooden door at the top of a flight of steps opened and a stunning young woman came bounding out and down the steps.

"You must be the Collins'. I'm Natasha King . . . please, come this way."

Jasper and Lynn left the car and followed the bubbly young woman up the steps and into the house. Jasper's eyes were everywhere as he walked. He took in the stout wooden door and the ballistic glass in the adjacent windows. As they passed through the door, Miss King closed it behind them and she waved them up a trio of steps and through another stout wooden door set into a mullioned partition made up of three groups of six square panes on top and nine square panes below with a solid wood base. The door matched the partition and was made up of nine panes on top and solid dark-stained wood below. Each pane was also of ballistic glass, Jasper noticed.

The happy carefree King woman soon turned serious as she closed the inner door and she picked up a Glock 17 pistol from a side table and as Jasper looked upwards, he saw a tall young man with similar facial features to the woman. He held an H&K G-36C in his hands and the muzzle was pointed directly at Jasper and his wife. Jasper noticed that Natasha King was out of the line of fire from the staircase.

"May we see some identification, please, Mr and Mrs Collins," the young woman asked.

Joshua considered testing them but both held their weapons with a natural confidence and Jasper could see from their eyes that they were ready and obviously willing to kill to protect their secret.

..._...

After the necessities of identification had been exchanged the weapons were lowered.

"Sorry about that, Commanders," the young man said as he came down the stairs and held out his right hand. "Cameron King."

"Mr King," Jasper replied. "Jasper Collins – and this is my wife, Lynn."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Collins," Cameron said as he shook hands. "I believe you have met my sister, Natasha."

"We have," Lynn chuckled.

"Please, call us Cameron and Natasha. Let's go through to the Orangery and talk," Natasha suggested as she led Jasper and Lynn into the Drawing Room and out the opposite corner and into a large glazed room where they all sat down in a pair of comfortable couches facing one another.

"I have to admit," Jasper commented. "I am very pleased to see that you are both very serious about what you do."

"You thought we were just two stupid kids playing dress up?" Natasha growled.

"Down Crimson!" Cameron chuckled.

"While I was initially dubious; _Vengeance's_ professionalism is definitely growing on us both," Jasper replied with a smile.

"Okay," Cameron began. "We know as much about you, as you do about us – a quid pro quo on the part of Commander Lawrence. Our condolences by the way."

"Thank you, Cameron."

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Friday, June 24th_**

 ** _Stirling_**

I had had no choice but to go.

The horror of what I was about to do appalled me. Even worse, I was putting innocent members of the general public squarely in the crosshairs. How could I live with myself if somebody was hurt? I had considered everything – including any way to avoid the worst idea ever. However, I soon ran out of time and before I knew it, we were there and ready to unleash the three vicious creatures onto the world. It was Cassie who began the inevitable slide into total anarchy as she held open the door to allow them onto the premises where a young woman approached us.

"Welcome to Pizza Hut – table for five?"

"Got one with restraints?" I enquired somewhat hopefully.

"Sis – will you stop trying to embarrass us," Harper hissed as she led the surge towards a circular booth over to one side of the restaurant floor.

Cassie and I followed the girls and once they had slid into the booth, we positioned ourselves to cover the entrance and prevent the girls from leaving. The moment Harper had sat down, she spied the cutlery and seized hold of a knife.

"If you value your dignity, you'll return that knife, _immediately_!" I hissed. "At this setting, you'll be pissing your knickers and worse . . ."

Harper looked down and she saw the Taser in my hand.

"You wouldn't . . . not in public!" Harper hissed back.

"Now I know you're a mini-Rambo, anything goes," I responded with a smile.

Harper took a moment to think about the consequences and then she returned the knife and smiled sweetly. Naomi and Kaitlin giggled as they grabbed a menu each, plus some crayons and a large A3-sized colouring sheet.

..._...

After a substantial, and heated argument, we settled on three large pizzas. One was stuffed-crust, another cheesy-bites, and the other deep pan. Once we had ordered the pizzas, along with mountains of garlic bread, Naomi apologised to Harper for threatening to stuff a crayon up the latter's nose if she did not go for a stuffed-crust pizza. Kaitlin also, grudgingly (the Taser reappeared), apologised to everybody for her comment: '... I'm going cheesy bites and you can all go to fuck!'

Then came such a bad idea – unlimited fizzy drinks from a touch screen dispenser. Somehow, I thought that two nine-year-olds and an eight-year-old could handle that; I was _so_ wrong! Cassie and I were just talking when we started to hear loud, raucous giggling and then the sound of glass breaking – quite a bit of glass as several glasses ended up on the floor – apparently, none of the girls were within a mile of them at the time . . . In the end, _I_ got the drinks – twice as Kaitlin split all three glasses (why her feet were actually _able_ to knock them off the table was _way_ beyond what my strained sanity could adequately cope with).

By the time the pizzas arrived, I wanted to cry – Kaitlin (yes, her again) suggested that they see how high they could pile the 'free salad' into the tiny bowls provided. Several feet of salad ended up all over the floor and I resolved to leave a large tip at the end of the meal – assuming we actually made it to the end of the meal . . .

* * *

"Kaitlin!"

"Wdfheh?"

"Stop cramming so much into your mouth."

"She's got a big mouth; plenty of room!" Naomi commented with a snicker.

"Yso kiu jo uuk orelf!" Kaitlin retorted through her slice of Meat Feast.

"I just wish the world would end . . ." Cassie groaned.

"Yours is bigger," Harper offered between bites.

"You can fit a whole slice in yours," Naomi retorted.

"Oh, God!" Keira wailed as Harper decided to take up Naomi's challenge.

To make things worse, the antics of the three girls had attracted the attention of other kids who were then keen to emulate Kaitlin and Harper. The glares from annoyed parents were like laser beams and both Cassie and Keira wished that they were anywhere else but in that restaurant with three badly behaved young girls. It was also obvious that their appalling behaviour had come to the attention of the restaurant staff.

The manager kept walking past the table and she gave Keira and Cassie dirty looks each time.

..._...

"Oh, thank God!" Keira breathed as the three girls finished their pizza and then vanished off to the bathroom together.

It was after several minutes had passed that a cold chill crept up Keira's spine.

"Was it a good idea to let them all go together?" she asked Cassie.

"I smell trouble . . ." Cassie replied – just as there was a commotion over by the door which led to the toilets – Keira groaned.

"I _see_ trouble!" Keira replied as the three girls reappeared from the toilets.

Kaitlin was grinning, Naomi looked guilty as hell, and Harper was looking anywhere but at Cassie or Keira as they headed back to their seats. Keira and Cassie watched as a staff member vanished into the toilets before reappearing and calling for assistance. Keira focussed on the three very guilty looking young girls.

"The tap just kind of broke off . . ." Harper tried.

"The toilet paper wasn't us – it was somebody else," Kaitlin offered helpfully.

"Anything I say will just be incriminating so I'm staying quiet," Naomi added as she rested her forehead on the table-top.

Keira looked around and spied a waitress. "Bill, please!" she called, somewhat urgently.

Needless to say – Pizza Hut, Stirling, was now off-limits. It came as a surprise (not), but I never knew that you could actually get black-listed from a Pizza Hut restaurant!

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

The ride back had been tense.

The girls knew that they were in big trouble and neither of them dared to say a word. Keira was seething and Cassie would not even look at her two charges. As they all entered the house, Keira turned to the three girls – each one flinched as they caught her expression.

"If either of you three are heard, just the once, I will Taser each of you to hell and back!"

Harper opened her mouth but she wisely thought better of whatever smart comment she was about to make and made for the staircase, closely followed by her partners in crime.

"Any punishment I can think of," Cassie commented. "They'd probably enjoy!"

"They are going to learn to behave, or so help me God . . .!" Keira growled.

"Cassie!"

"Yeah, mum."

"You have a call on the Hit-Phone!" Alexandra Perrin responded.

Cassie rolled her eyes as she grabbed for the proffered handset.

"Mindy! What can the _Vengeance_ house of hell do for you? Please make it quick; I have three small corpses to dispose of . . ."

"We have a situation in England and Natasha says you can be made available – fancy a drive?"

"Anything, Mindy . . . I'll do _anything_ to get away from _Predator_ hell!"

* * *

 ** _Later that night_**

 ** _Atomic Weapons Establishment  
Aldermaston, United Kingdom_**

"I don't want to!"

"You'll do what you're fucking told, you little wretch!"

"No . . ."

The small girl screamed as the hand slapped her across the face. The girl glared at the man who had just assaulted her and she wiped away the tears from her cheeks as well as the small amount of blood from the side of mouth.

"Move . . . or I put a bullet in that little head of yours – your choice!"

Reluctantly, the small girl, clad in black joggers, black top, and black boots slipped out of the car and headed towards the security fence a hundred yards distant. The camouflage paint on her face prevented any light reflections from alerting the security force.

"You think the scratty bitch'll come back with the goods?" one man queried.

"If she wants to see the boy again, she will," the other man chuckled.


	9. Ambush

**_Background_**

Organised crime is one of the greatest threats to the United Kingdom's national security. Organised crime groups are often involved in multiple profit-making criminal activities, from drug trafficking to modern slavery and from the sexual exploitation of children to the smuggling of illegal firearms, cybercrime, and human trafficking – serious and organised crime is everywhere. The National Crime Agency (NCA) tackles serious and organised crime, strengthens the UK's borders, fights fraud and cybercrime, and protects children and young people from sexual abuse and exploitation.

Gang-related organised crime in the United Kingdom is concentrated around the cities of London, Manchester and Liverpool and regionally across the West Midlands region, south coast and northern England, according to the Serious Organised Crime Agency which was superseded by the NCA in 2013. Scotland developed its own form of organised crime outside that of England and Wales.

The National Crime Agency (NCA) is a national law enforcement and police agency in the United Kingdom. It is the UK's lead agency against organised crime, be it human, weapon, or drug trafficking; cybercrime or economic crime that goes across regional and international borders, but it can be tasked to investigate any crime. The NCA has a strategic role in which it looks at the bigger picture across the UK, analysing how criminals are operating and how they can be disrupted. To do this it works closely with regional organised crime units (ROCUs), the Serious Fraud Office, as well as individual police forces. It is also the United Kingdom point of contact for foreign agencies around the world such as Interpol, Europol, and the FBI.

Within the United Kingdom, the NCA has full operational capacity in England and Wales and Northern Ireland. The NCA's operations and powers in Scotland are limited to those inherited from its predecessor, the Serious Organised Crime Agency.

Scotland had a vulnerability in its fight against serious and organised crime. That vulnerability was intended to be filled by _Vengeance_.

* * *

 ** _Monday, 27th June, 2016_**

 ** _Northern Edinburgh_**

Jack McNafferty was forty-four and he led the McNafferty crime syndicate that was formed from four, formerly independent, crime families. Requirements for security and mutual-protection had drawn the once-feuding families together and for a little over ten years, they had profited immensely from their close relationship. He had no idea that his previously unchallenged lifestyle was about to come crashing down.

One member of his own family and another from the Campbell family were tax lawyers and they specialised in ensuring that all of the families' tax affairs were beyond reproach; they could account for just about every penny the families spent – legal or otherwise. Money laundering had been taken to a whole new level to ensure that every penny came out whiter than white. Other family members provided intelligence to give the families a heads up if a raid was on its way at some facility or other.

Despite Special Branch and other organisations knowing full well what the families were up to, there was zero evidence to mount even the most innocent of dawn raid or even to pull a family member over for a traffic inspection.

..._...

Jack McNafferty was well known enough that nobody ever dared to interfere with him, his family, or anybody linked with him or his family. People had vanished – it was rumoured that the syndicate had made over thirty people 'disappear' since its inception. Therefore, when McNafferty saw his route blocked by two vehicles he was decidedly unhappy. He slammed on the brakes of his burgundy BMW 7-series saloon and pushed open his door. Ahead of him, in a section of road without streetlights, he could make out two large, dark shapes parked in the road. His headlights illuminated the reinforced bumpers of two large 4x4s.

"If you value your lives, you will leave . . . NOW!" he growled.

"Cheeky jobby!" a weirdly electronic voice growled from the darkness.

"I was gonna say the fuckin' same thing," another added. "Fuckin' diddy!"

"What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck are you numpties?" McNafferty roared.

With that two lights came to life, both of which appeared to McNafferty like a pair of collapsed suns as the pair of 24,000 lumen lights turned night into day. Three shapes stepped forwards into the light. The first wore crimson armour, the second blue, and the third grey with yellow. They were armed and all three wore masks.

"You fucking piece of shit, McNafferty," the crimson one growled. "You have caused nowt but fuckin' misery all over the fuckin' country. Now it is time to pay the piper, you fuckin' knobdobber."

"You can't hurt me – I control everything and there is fuck all a trio of fucking roasters can do about it!" McNafferty retorted angrily. "Now get the fuck outta my way before I kill you all."

"You have forty-eight hours, McNafferty. Forty-eight hours to make restitution."

"Fuck you!"

"In forty-eight hours," the yellow one said. "We come for you."

"Fucking jessies, wasting my time!" McNafferty muttered as he climbed back into his car and made a quick U-turn in the road.

McNafferty was shaken as he found a different route home that night.

* * *

 ** _Later that night. . ._**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Cassie and Keira were enjoying a few minutes of peace and quiet.

"He made my blood boil. Seeing the bastard after having read his file made me want to slot the fucker."

Cassie had not long returned from her trip out with Cameron and Natasha. She and Keira were discussing McNafferty while the girls were getting ready for bed. Alexandra Perrin was lounging in another chair reading her book. The day had been long and very busy. The three girls still had two more days of school before the summer holidays. For Harper, it was also a little emotional as she would be starting at a new school in Edinburgh in August.

"Hold on, Keira, – it's gone _very_ quiet – I'm going to go check on the little darlings," Cassie grinned.

"Need backup?" Keira teased.

"I think I can handle three little girls – trained killers or not!"

"Good luck," Alexandra chuckled from her chair as her daughter rolled her eyes.

..._...

As Cassie pushed open the bedroom door, the three girls froze.

Harper had hold of Kaitlin under her arms while Naomi had hold of her cousin's ankles. Kaitlin, in turn, was suspended two feet in the air. The instant Harper and Naomi saw Cassie, they both jumped back and Kaitlin fell to the floor with a little scream.

"Goddamn bitches!" she moaned as she got to her feet.

"Do I even want to know?" Cassie asked.

"Not really," Naomi replied with a sheepish grin as she handed her knicker-clad cousin some pyjamas.

"Kaitlin – pound in the jar," Cassie ordered as Kaitlin dumped her knickers on the floor and pulled on her pyjama bottoms and top.

"You are _both_ going to pay!" Kaitlin breathed as she glared at Naomi and Harper before the eight-year-old left the bedroom.

..._...

At the bottom of the stairs, Kaitlin headed for the living room where she found a disapproving Keira who just pointed at the swear jar while Alexandra ignored the young girl.

"How do you know that's what I'm down here for?"

"Am I wrong?"

"No . . . but. . ."

"It's you, Kaitlin. . ."

"Am I that bad?"

Keira just glanced at the pink swear jar labelled 'Kaitlin' which was crammed full of dozens of pound coins, several five-pound notes, and at least two ten-pound notes were visible.

"The Commander thinks he might be able to afford his own destroyer from your jar alone."

"Ha, ha!" Kaitlin sneered as she dropped a pound coin into the jar before she bolted for the stairs.

* * *

 ** _The following evening  
Tuesday, 28th June_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

The girls were assisting the more senior _Vengeance_ members with their preparations.

Harper was in charge of the weapons and she had triple-checked every firearm . . . twice! Each blade had been finely polished and every magazine inspected and loaded. Naomi and Kaitlin provided assistance with the combat suits.

"I could get used to this!" Cameron chuckled as Naomi brought him over his boots. "Thank you, Naomi."

"You're welcome, Cam," the nine-year-old grinned.

"Here, Nats," Kaitlin offered, holding out a pair of armoured gauntlets.

"What about me?" Cassie demanded.

"Only got two hands!" Kaitlin huffed as she ignored Cassie.

"I think she's still annoyed about the jar, last night," Keira reasoned with a smirk in the direction of the youngest girl.

Kaitlin scowled at Keira and continued with assisting Natasha. A few mouthed obscenities were visible which had Cassie chuckling as she pulled on her own armoured gauntlets.

"Thanks, girls," Crimson said as she stepped up into the driving seat of _Sabre_.

"You're doing good – now, go and train and we'll see you all later," Drift added as he joined his sister in the vehicle.

* * *

The two vehicles left the base, with the dark grey KTM 1290 Super Duke GT motorcycle ahead of the hulking armoured Range Rover Sentinel 4x4.

The night was intended as a partial dry-run for what was to come the next night when they went after that conniving bastard – assuming he did _not_ follow their instructions to leave town which was highly likely. Mind you, they were all looking forward to kicking the bastard's arse should he stay. McNafferty had more than one home, and his family, not to mention the rest of the syndicate, had several more. Q was doing his best to keep an eye on as many as possible properties and syndicate members as he could with his state-of-the-art equipment.

Nemesis coasted in and out of the light traffic as she kept her eyes peeled for any action to liven up the otherwise dull evening.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Not bad for a pussy!"

"Harper – we really need to talk about your language," Keira said pointedly.

"In here, it's Polaris, Scorpion," Polaris replied with a grin.

"Cocky little bitch, aren't we?"

"She's proud of it, too!" Glide threw in with a cheeky smirk.

"Tell me about it!" Scorpion laughed as she kicked her sister's legs out from under her.

"Not bad, I suppose. . ." Polaris growled as she moved to attack her big sister.

"Stop picking on the new girl!" Prowl suggested as she intercepted Polaris and threw her down to the ground.

"So, you want to make it personal. . ." Polaris began.

"Too damn right!" Prowl responded as she attacked the other girl.

Scorpion and Glide just stood back and watched the scrap erupt.

..._...

"Tsk, tsk – why do you girls always have to fight?" Q commented as he peered into the room, a mug of coffee in one hand.

"Ignore those bitches – I'm way better behaved," Glide commented as she followed Q through to the _Vengeance_ Control Room.

Q raised one eyebrow and he gazed back at the diminutive eight-year-old who just smiled sweetly and walked past him. He looked at Scorpion who just shrugged and followed Glide into the Control Room.

"Don't touch anything, okay?" Q warned the young vigilante.

"I know!" Glide commented as she promptly pressed a key on the keyboard and an image appeared on each of the large screens.

"Glide!" Q growled as he pressed another button and the image faded.

"What was that?" Scorpion asked. "It looked like the inside of an aircraft hangar. . ."

"No idea. . ." Q muttered as he sat himself down in his large, and very comfortable, leather command chair.

"Why did that picture of Abby look like she was naked?" Prowl asked with a smirk.

"It was a low-cut top!" Q said quickly.

"Riiight!" Polaris replied sarcastically.

..._...

A phone rang and Q answered it with a click of his mouse.

"Good evening, welcome to _Vengeance_!"

"Hi, Q – it's. . ."

"I know it's you, Flare!" Q chuckled.

"Oh," the girl pouted over the connection.

"How's it going in Chicago?"

"Not bad – things are quiet for a change."

"What have you got for me?"

"We can see no unusual activities on those accounts you sent us. Nobody is preparing to go on any trips as far as we can tell."

"Well, done! Let me know when you get anymore . . . oh, give my love to Hal when you next speak."

"I will, Q."

"Thank you, Synthesis!" Q said as he cut the connection.

..._...

"He's in luv!" Glide quipped as she rolled her eyes.

"Am not, you little. . ."

"I may only be eight but I know that you've been shafting Hal."

Scorpion almost spat out a mouthful of coffee at Glide's deadpan expression.

"Would you like me to wire your bed to the mains, dear girl?" Q growled with added menace.

"I'm good, thanks."

* * *

 ** _Later that night_**

 ** _Ratho Station_**

Jasper and Lynn were out that night, with all three kids.

"Stop touching me!" Jessica moaned.

"I'm not!" Christopher replied.

"Oh, God – just grow up!" Olivia groaned as she was pressed against the rear door of the Jaguar by her sister.

"Shut up!" Jasper ordered and Lynn chuckled. "Yes, very funny!"

"Dad. . . Oh wow – Jess look!"

Chris pointed out the window as a dark grey motorcycle overtook their car. He stared at the women astride the motorcycle and he took in the dull yellow and very dark grey combat suit. The eleven-year-old boy followed the long legs, taking in the Tanto, past the holstered pistol, and over the Katana sword on the vigilante's back. Then she was gone.

" _Vengeance_. . ." he breathed.

"What was that, Chris?" Lynn asked her son as she exchanged a glance with her husband.

" _That_ was a vigilante – they are the coolest!" he replied.

"Hot-headed," Jasper commented. "Lacking in discipline. . ."

"They help people, Dad."

"They kill people, son – the jury's still out on how much they actually _help_ , in my opinion."

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Team Alpha_**

As they drove down the A89 about two-thirds of a mile east of Dechmont, it happened.

They were approaching a roundabout when an enormous, forty-tonne articulated lorry came onto the roundabout from the left, at speed and drove _over_ the grass roundabout, flattening a road sign as it turned hard to the right and made directly for the _Vengeance_ 4x4, on the _wrong_ side of the road. Crimson made to veer over the central meridian but a Mitsubishi Shogun came up parallel to the truck before the 4x4 stopped and the large heavy goods vehicle jack-knifed.

Crimson stomped on the brake pedal and several tonnes of armoured 4x4 came to a very rapid halt several feet from the stopped lorry. Drift released himself from his brace position and immediately scanned around them for any threats other than the errant truck. Nemesis had to make use of all her skills as she had to avoid both the errant HGV _and_ the massive 4x4 driven by her fellow vigilante.

For a brief moment, Drift considered it just an out of control lorry, but almost immediately, the armoured 4x4 came under sustained fire from two men in the cab of the lorry and several more men who came around the back end of the truck.

Nemesis quickly moved behind the 4x4 for cover and pulled out an H&K G36C from the pannier of her motorcycle.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

 _"Taking fire from all directions – Team Alpha is under fire!"_

Q, Scorpion, and Glide were all stunned into silence by Nemesis' announcement. Q brought up live video of the scene. A mosaic was quickly built up from the eight cameras mounted on _Sabre_ , as well as the two cameras mounted on Nemesis' motorcycle. The motorcycle cameras showed a slanted view as the machine lay on its right side on the ground.

"You have fire coming from _Sabre's_ nine o'clock, seven o'clock, and four o'clock," Q advised his team members.

 _"Copy that!"_ Nemesis responded.

 _"I have men on the lorry – engaging!"_ Drift advised.

* * *

 ** _Sabre_**

As bullets impacted Sabre's armoured body and armoured windscreen, Drift activated the countermeasures system and selected the button labelled ' **M7** ' and that labelled ' **M99** '.

At the rear of the capacious bonnet, a small hatch slid to one side. Just below the hatch were the 66-millimetre muzzles belonging to a pair of fixed, slightly angled, vertically mounted grenade launchers. Drift flipped up a red lever and a warning tone sounded in their earpieces. Nemesis shifted herself closer to the armoured vehicle, knowing what was to come.

"Firing!" Drift called out and he pressed a pair of buttons simultaneously.

There were a pair of loud bangs and the two M99 blunt trauma grenades flew into the air before detonating thirty feet above _Sabre_ and cutting down three men who stood on the roof of the articulated trailer.

"Nemesis, standby for M98 and M82," Drift ordered as he selected the advised grenades from the control panel.

Nemesis readied her motorcycle – the engine was still running – and she strapped the G36C across her chest ready for use.

"Firing!"

Four more grenades were fired from two pairs of 66-millimetre launchers fitted into the rear of the armoured vehicle and aimed out to the sides. Two of the grenades passed close to Nemesis before they exploded a few seconds later along with the other pair. Crimson immediately reversed under cover of the copious amount of smoke (from the M82 grenade) which blocked all vision – except for the infra-red filters on _Sabre's_ cameras. Nemesis had hauled her motorcycle upright and shot two of the attackers before she joined _Sabre_ as the vehicle performed a perfect J-turn. The attackers, stunned by the detonating pyrotechnic M98 grenades, each of which had contained three sub-munitions, staggered amid the chaos.

" _Sabre_ is clear!" Crimson reported, much to everybody's relief.

"Nemesis is clear!"

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Hey, dickheads!"

Polaris and Prowl turned to face Glide.

"They were just attacked – out of the fucking blue!" Glide advised her older counterparts.

"Crap!" Polaris pointed out as the three girls ran to the Control Room.

* * *

 ** _Sabre_**

"You two ready to go back in?" Nemesis asked as she jumped in the back having parked up her motorcycle.

"Time for some payback!" Drift replied as Crimson stomped her right foot, flat to the floor.

 _Sabre_ wound around several stopped vehicles before coming to a stop on the opposite side of the central meridian, a few yards from the cab of the dark blue, Tesco HGV. All three vigilantes burst out of their transport and ran forwards, each brandishing a G36C at their shoulder. It was difficult to see much beyond the seemingly abandoned truck, thanks to the swirling smoke from the M82 grenades.

Crimson ran to the rear of the jack-knifed trailer and almost received a bullet for her trouble as two men ran towards the Mitsubishi Shogun. There was a lot of shouting as the team of men attempted to regain some semblance of control. Crimson sent a short burst in the direction of the Shogun which had the two men diving for cover. Sirens could be heard coming from various directions which was spurring the attackers on with their escape.

While Crimson was at the opposite end of the lorry, Drift and Nemesis had run towards the cab where at least one man was visible with a gun in his hand.

"We need to go slow, Drift," Nemesis warned. "There could be an innocent in there."

"Yeah," Drift replied. "You take the passenger side, I'll take the driver's side."

The two vigilantes separated, one to each side of the cab.

* * *

The cab of the lorry was full of smoke – it's glazing had been penetrated by shrapnel from the M99 blunt trauma grenade allowing the smoke to enter. One gunman was escaping out the passenger side but he was just about to swing himself down to the ground when he sensed movement and turned to see an armoured form and then nothing as Nemesis rammed the breech of her G36 into the man's face. As he dropped to the road, like a sack of potatoes, Nemesis jumped over the body and up in the cab.

The smoke billowed out past her and she could make out two forms inside the cab, and a third hauling open the driver's door, beyond.

..._...

Nemesis dropped the G36C and drew her sidearm. The FN Five-seveN Mk2 pistol was much more suited for the tight confines of the lorry's cab. She moved across the passenger seat and brought her pistol up towards a lone gunman who crouched over another man who was lying in a supine position across the driver's seat and the central section of the cab.

The gunman knew he was trapped – he had a pair of armoured individuals blocking his escape. He momentarily considered the windscreen, but he knew that would take too long. Neither was he suicidal – his wage was not _that_ good! He dropped his pistol and held his hands up and then he found himself seized by the male vigilante and thrown bodily out of the cab onto the road below.

Nemesis turned her attentions to the supine form below her who wore a hi-vis jacket with 'TESCO' printed on it.

"I must be dreaming?" the man quipped as he passed out.

* * *

The first on the scene was a Police Scotland BMW with two officers.

They stopped their car a couple dozen yards away from what appeared to be a jack-knifed Tesco delivery lorry which sat amongst clouds of smoke. Several prone bodies were visible and to the left side of the lorry there was a Mitsubishi Shogun 4x4 with what appeared to be an armoured, heavily armed, vigilante guarding a pair of men who knelt beside the 4x4.

" _Vengeance_ ," one of the police officers muttered to his partner.

They were both very aware of _Vengeance_ and what they were. They also knew not to get involved – those were direct orders from the Home Secretary at the Home Office in London. The slowly approached the female vigilante.

"Two for you," Crimson said as the police officers approached. "Their weapons are down there. Have fun!"

With that, the vigilante ran around the trailer of the lorry and vanished. After handing both men over to another pair of police officers who had just arrived, the two officers headed after the vanished vigilante. As they passed around the rear of the jack-knifed trailer, more of the scene unfolded before their disbelieving eyes. All around them, they could see discarded weapons, prone bodies, discarded bullet shells, and then they laid eyes on two more vigilantes.

"You have the driver, up in the cab – he's unconscious at the moment. You'll also find two gunmen unconscious in front of the cab," the male vigilante advised the two officers before both vigilantes joined the third at their armoured Range Rover.

* * *

 ** _Forty-five minutes later. . ._**

 _Sabre_ stopped amid the other vehicles and Q gazed over the damaged paintwork and glazing.

The vehicle would probably need to go away for repairs – a pain in the neck, if so. Either way, the vehicle would not be available for a number of weeks. The important thing, though, was that Crimson and Drift were both uninjured, as was Nemesis who had just pulled up a few feet away.

"That sucked!" Cassie growled as she removed her helmet and mask.

"Are you okay?" Naomi asked.

"A little sore from some stray bullets, but otherwise, I'm fine," Cassie replied as Naomi took her helmet and mask from her.

" _I'll_ do that!" Kaitlin said as she barged in before she took the helmet and mask from her cousin.

Naomi grinned as Kaitlin helped Cassie with her gauntlets and boots.

..._...

"That bastard has ignited a firestorm," Natasha commented angrily as she sat down with a coffee, after having taken a long shower.

"He has _no_ idea what he has unleashed on his organisation," Cameron said with equal venom.

"Is _Vengeance_ going to war?" Keira asked.

"Too damn right!" Cassie replied.

* * *

 _*Introduction compiled from NCA website and Wikipedia_


	10. Reprisal

**_The following morning  
Wednesday, 29_** ** _th_** ** _June, 2016_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

Cassandra Perrin looked out the front windows as a Jaguar pulled up very sharply on the drive.

The man who stepped out of the luxury vehicle did not appear very impressed as he strode up the steps to the front door. Cassie opened the door and waved the man through into the Orangery.

"Well, you lot have stirred up an almighty hornet's nest!" Jasper Collins growled as he sat down in a chair.

Cameron, Natasha, Cassie, and Eric sat across from Jasper. None of them showed the faintest hint of remorse.

"We saved that trucker," Cassie pointed out.

"Yes, you did. You also created a hell of a mess on a very busy main road and caused no end of crap for the Police to mop up. The Home Office has put a lid on this mess – for the moment. You do, however, have one fan."

"Oh?" Cameron commented.

"Yes. The Tesco driver – he thinks you guys are the best fucking thing since sliced bread!"

"We're out there to help," Natasha said simply.

Jasper rubbed his eyes and groaned.

"Please keep the body count to a reasonable level."

"We'll do our best," Cameron responded for all of them.

"Yeah – just what I thought," Jasper grimaced.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Moss-side Hall_**

Jessica ran into the living room.

"Jasper, can I get a fiver for tomorrow?" she asked excitedly.

"What for?" Jasper asked the eleven-year-old. "And what happened to saying 'please'?"

"Please . . . I want to go out with my friends after school."

"On a school night, Jess?" Lynn Collins cut in.

"It's only maths on Friday morning. . ." Jessica pointed out.

"I don't think so," Jasper decided.

"Told you!" Jessica's older sister muttered.

Jessica glared at Olivia and she stomped out of the room.

"What's up with _her_?" Christopher asked as he jumped out of Jessica's way.

"She's not getting her own way," Olivia smirked.

"Maybe we need to find them some extracurricular activities – maybe burn off some of their energy," Lynn suggested. "Maybe . . ."

"No!" Jasper said strongly.

"Just kidding!" Lynn replied defensively.

* * *

 ** _The next night  
Thursday, 30_** ** _th_** ** _June_**

 ** _Northern Edinburgh_**

The approach was in total darkness and across open grass.

Ten-thousand feet above Edinburgh, the $3million ScanEagle X200 UAV, known as _EAGLE-1_ , orbited at 60 knots in a thousand-yard circle. Various sensors, including visual and infra-red cameras, fed information back to Q in the _Vengeance_ Command Centre and directly to the three vigilantes on the ground below. The 22kg air vehicle with a wingspan of just over three metres detected heat sources on the ground and passed the exact locations to the wrist-mounted screens fitted to the vigilante's combat suits.

Crimson, Drift, and Nemesis were spread out in line abreast as they moved through the darkness. The first of several guards were visible via the team's NVGs and were about two dozen yards ahead of them. Crimson indicated for Drift to move to the left and Nemesis to move to the right. Both drew their blades – twin 24-inch Tanto blades for Drift and a single 42-inch Katana for Nemesis. They closed on their targets and when a few yards away, they attacked.

First blood went to Nemesis as she removed a guard's head silently and efficiently. The severed head made barely a sound as it fell onto the soft grass beneath and rolled to a stop, trailing hot blood behind that was super bright in the infra-red image. Drift drove his twin blades into his guard who went down never knowing what had struck him out of the darkness.

"Two down – moving on!" Drift reported.

* * *

"Is it just me, or is the Boss a little bit pissed?"

"I think those _Vengeance_ guys upset him a bit."

"Well, they did give him an ultimatum and order him out of town, Bill, and it's not like they'd actually attack us – not here in the middle of Edinburgh . . . Bill?"

"Bill's not here – please leave a message after the tone. . ."

"Holy fuck!"

The man turned to see a slim shadow emerge out of the darkness and then he felt unbelievable pain as the razor-sharp tip of a bō-staff came out of that same darkness and split his heart in two.

"Bill and some other fucker, are down," Crimson growled. "The way in is clear."

* * *

Craigcrook Castle was an imposing property, a little over three miles west of Edinburgh's city centre.

After a period of time as a business centre, the property had passed into the hands of Jack McNafferty. He had completely remodelled the property as a private home – with extensive security. Those security measures were state-of-the-art but Q's systems were a level beyond and he was able to bypass everything that was placed ahead of his colleagues as they approached the main building.

"Breaching in 4 – 3 – 2 – 1. . ."

Drift hit the button on the detonator and explosive charges detonated on the front and back doors, blasting them inwards. Crimson burst in through the demolished back door and she kicked a stunned security guard in the head. On the other side of the building, Nemesis kicked away the final parts of the front door and she ran inside and straight up the spiral staircase and out into a hallway. She immediately came under fire.

"Taking fire!" Nemesis radioed.

..._...

Drift ran up the stairs and he quickly took up position beside his fellow vigilante, his G36C at the ready. The gunfire coming at them was small calibre, probably MP5 submachine guns. Both Drift and Nemesis had no problems with that – their armour was more than a match for the bullets coming at them.

The gunmen were skilled and they were caught in a crossfire from the left, a long hallway that went deeper into the castle, and from ahead, where two men were in an alcove which led to the Master Bedroom . . . and, they hoped, their target.

 _"I'm coming up!"_ Crimson radioed from below to warn her team so she didn't surprise them and get herself shot into the bargain.

As Crimson came up behind Nemesis, she touched her friend on the shoulder.

"Crimson – take the left, Nemesis – make for the right and work your way around. I'll provide covering fire. On three. One . . . Two . . . Three!"

Drift threw a pair of flashbangs to the left and then another ahead. After the immensely loud bang had begun to echo around the castle, and the flash has subsided, Nemesis and Crimson burst out of the staircase.

..._...

Crimson ran down the hallway, putting bullets into the heads of two stunned guards as she went. She then came to a left-hand bend in the hallway. Ahead of her was a doorway into one of the bedrooms and to her left was a cupboard and beyond that a right-hand bend and she saw a head peer round the far bend at her – it vanished smartly as she sent a three-round burst towards it.

She held position, guarding her team's eastern flank.

..._...

On the other side of the castle, Nemesis dove into an alcove which led to a door – it was the Master Bathroom and as she entered, a bullet struck her armour just below her left breast. She dived down behind a substantial steel bathtub and returned fire with her assault rifle.

"You can't win, you fucking bitch!"

It was that bastard, McNafferty.

"I have the primary target!" Nemesis called out triumphantly over the communications.

 _"I have the east end of the castle pinned down,"_ Crimson reported.

 _"No way out via the main staircase,"_ Drift added.

"You're going down, you motherfucking bastard!" Nemesis called out as she sent a short burst towards the voice and she moved around the bathtub and towards another doorway, the assault rifle at her shoulder.

As she moved through the door, she slowed – something was not right. She was in the Master Dressing Room and that bastard stood a dozen feet from her, in the Master Bedroom. He was smiling despite her having a weapon trained on him and a red laser dot, dead centre on his chest.

..._...

"I wouldn't move, honey – look at your feet; trip wire."

Nemesis did not dare look down but as she looked up to her left and to her right, she felt a chill run up her spine as she recognised two Claymore mines.

"You can't shoot me, either – Deadman's switch. . ."

Nemesis could see the remote detonator in his hand – she didn't dare move a muscle.

"I could shoot you where you stand, but you're my ticket out of here, young _Nemesis_."

Nemesis had never felt rage like it as her insides boiled with fury. She also felt angry at herself for getting caught out in such a way – the bastard had played them. Hindsight was a wonderful thing. . .

"Nemesis – status!"

"Drift – I'm fucked and he has the upper ground – Claymores."

..._...

Seconds later, Drift entered the Master Bathroom and then made his way through to the Master Dressing Room - slowly.

He checked for tripwires and anything else, equally as unsavoury, but he found nothing as he joined his friend. He crouched low and looked around – there was nothing at the feet of Nemesis, but he did see the Claymore mines.

"Where is he?"

"Gone!" came the dejected response.

"Let's get you out of here."

"Tripwire. . ."

"Can't find one."

"Bastard!" Nemesis seethed as she moved her feet in a relieved fashion.

 _"He's gone up to the roof and then down an escape ladder,"_ Q called.

"Crimson – pull back; time to leave," Drift ordered.

 _"Falling back,"_ Crimson acknowledged.

* * *

Nemesis and Crimson ran out of the building and back towards their transport.

Behind them, about four hundred yards away were six high-performance cars, varying from Audis, to BMWs and Fords. Heading towards them were about a dozen men; that was a problem – only Crimson had a plan. She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a remote detonator before she smirked at Nemesis and pressed the button just as Drift came out of the castle.

"Nothing's happening!" Nemesis commented dryly.

"Fuck!" Crimson growled as she stabbed the button again and again. The men were just about to pass the cars.

"Did you check the batteries?" Nemesis asked.

"Damn it – you lose focus for one second in this game. . ."

"Did you turn it off and back on again?" Q asked.

"Your bloody answer to everything, Q!"

"It works for me," Drift threw in as he caught up and frowned at their latest predicament.

Crimson, however, did so and then she pressed the button. . .

First, an Audi went airborne on a pillar of fire, followed by a Ford, a BMW, and finally another Audi – then silence. Two-seconds later, another Audi flew upwards into the air – then nothing. Nemesis and Crimson glared at the final BMW as Crimson hammered the button on the remote and then out of sheer frustration, she smacked her hand against it. . . That did it – the final car, and men, died in a ball of flame.

"Q?"

"Yes, my Crimson queen. . ."

"Where the fuck did you buy this toy-town shit?"

..._...

The drive back was sombre – considering that they had missed the bastard. They consoled themselves with the knowledge that he now knew he was in danger and that he could be hit anywhere and at any time. The sombre mood worsened as they entered the Command Centre.

Q was ashen-faced as he met them.

"Stephanie was shot, a few hours ago; it was a sniper. I have no further information at this point."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Friday, 1_** ** _st_** ** _July_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

The mood was sullen that morning.

All three girls moped as they pushed their cereal around in their bowls, not really eating anything. Stephanie was still not out of danger but she was still fighting. The event had brought it home to the three girls that they were all very much mortal. During their brief time together, the girls had become very attached to Stephanie and they saw the older ex- _Predator_ as their future selves.

It also raised questions in Cassie's mind as to whether her own brood and Harper might be at risk.

..._...

There was another reason for the sullen behaviour: Keira and Harper were moving into their own home.

"It's not fair!" Kaitlin moaned after breakfast as Harper finished packing her belongings.

"I know," Harper replied. "I'm going to miss you both – all of you – but I'm not far away and you can come visit me. We can set Edinburgh on fire!"

"I do hope that is metaphorical, Harper," Keira commented from the door.

"Of course, it is – I don't burn things."

"Bullshit!" Naomi exploded before she clamped a hand over her mouth and she dug a hand into her pocket for a pound coin which she then placed in Keira's outstretched hand.

"Oh?" Keira hinted with a raised eyebrow.

"Something for later, sis – a little problem I had. . ."

"Okay, let's get your stuff into the car, then."

..._...

It was one of the very few times that we had ever seen the three girls cry. Poor Kaitlin had tears streaming down her face as she hugged Harper. Naomi was the same as she hugged Keira.

"Christ in heaven!" Alexandra complained. "They're moving a few miles down the road – it's not like they're moving to another country!"

"I'll miss having you running around, Harper," Cassie said, with tears in her eyes. "But maybe not the trouble you cause!"

Harper grinned and quickly wiped away her own tears.

"Promise you'll come to visit?" she asked.

"We're coming over tomorrow," Cassie reminded the nine-year-old. "Remember?"

The three girls grinned enormously and Keira rolled her eyes.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _East Mayfield_**

Keira was sitting on her brand-new, ultra-soft sofa, in the living room of her new home.

It felt strange being somewhere new, but she was pleased to have her own space. Even better. . .

"Can I join you?"

Harper ran into the living room and jumped onto the sofa, cuddling into her sister. Harper had just come down from her bedroom and she was in her pyjamas.

"We are together, in a new home, starting a new life," Keira began.

"Yes, as Polaris and Scorpion," Harper replied with a cheeky grin.

"I am so happy that we are together, Harps."

"Me too. Oh – please don't _ever_ call me that in front of the girls; I'd never hear the end of it!"

"No problem, Harps."

"Love you, sis."

"Love you, too, little sis."

* * *

 ** _That same time_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"This sucks!"

"Kaitlin! Less of that language, please," Cassie warned.

"She's right – even thought I hate to admit it," Naomi said. "I miss Harper."

Naomi stared over at the other sofa where Harper used to sit and cuddle into her big sister. It was a little game that the girls would play in their continuing one-upmanship. Harper would cuddle into her sister and make faces at Naomi and Kaitlin as they reciprocated by cuddling onto Cassie and making faces back.

Cassie and Keira thought it was cute (privately!) and often joined in.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Saturday, 2_** ** _nd_** ** _July_**

 ** _East Mayfield_**

"Harper!"

"Naomi, Kaitlin!"

The three girls rushed towards each other and hugged.

"For the love of God!" Cassie growled. "It's only been twenty fucking hours!"

"Harper's been climbing the walls waiting for you to get here," Keira chuckled.

"Kaitlin was up at five," Cassie countered. "She asked if we could leave early."

"It's good to see that they are such good friends; they need each other," Keira admitted.

"So, how was your first night in your new home?"

"A little quiet, but it was great – just me and Harper."

* * *

 ** _Coatbridge_**

"I'm not so sure about this. . ."

"Come on Kaitlin – you can do this," Keira said encouragingly as she held out a hand to the eight-year-old.

"We're better than this!" Harper exclaimed as she tentatively put a toe into the water.

"Good point," Naomi commented as she ran forwards and splashed into the same water.

"God give me strength!" Cassie groaned as she scooped up Harper and Kaitlin, one under each arm, and she dragged them into deeper water before dropping them both into the pool.

The two girls quickly regained their feet and, with a bit of coughing and spluttering, they stood up and glared at Cassie. Naomi laughed but not for long as Keira swept the nine-year-old off her feet and she went under water before quickly resurfacing, coughing and spluttering.

"You two are _so_ evil!" Kaitlin commented.

Keira smirked at Cassie who just smiled innocently.

"That's something coming from three vicious killers," Keira pointed out.

"Go have fun, girls, and please don't kill anybody," Cassie suggested with a steady glare at each girl in turn.

...+...

Earlier, before leaving Edinburgh, Cassie had sat the girls down.

"Okay, girls," Natasha said with a smile. "We need to find out how well you three can swim."

"Fuck that!" Kaitlin said with finality.

"I know you _Predators_ are not big fans of water but we need to know that you can all swim as we may be operating at sea at some stage in the future."

The girls had reluctantly accepted, until . . .

Swimming costumes had not been as easy to obtain as Cassie and Keira had thought. Cassie had selected a pair of dark blue, two-piece swimsuits (no frills, more like a sports bra and high-cut shorts) for Kaitlin and Naomi, however, Naomi had _not_ been amused.

"I am _not_ a little girl – I want a grown-up swimsuit," she had demanded.

"I am what I am," Kaitlin had said and she had stuck with the two-piece while her cousin had selected a dark blue one-piece.

Keira had picked out a red, one-piece for Harper and the young girl was very happy with the selection.

...+...

Thus, the five of them had travelled to Coatbridge to visit the Time Capsule – a small but fun swimming pool that had flumes and other fun activities, plus a wave pool. Considering their forced exposure to water in the past, the three girls had been understandably apprehensive about the water, but once in, they loved it and it was not long before Kaitlin received the first warning from a watching lifeguard as she tried to duck her cousin.

For Keira and Cassie, it had been a magical afternoon – the girls were able to be normal little girls for a few hours. Kaitlin, ever the adventurous one, was the first on the flumes, and when the three girls went on the Tornado Tantrum together, there was a _lot_ of screaming! As for the wave pool, all three girls – plus Keira and Cassie – giggled their way through the 2-metre plus waves as they rose and fell the length of the pool.

The biggest problem was then getting them _out_ of the pool, dried off, and changed!

* * *

 ** _Friday, 15_** ** _th_** ** _July_**

 ** _HMS Dragon  
North Atlantic_**

The Royal Navy destroyer was on a southerly heading, about 750 miles due west of Monrovia, off the African coast.

The Officer of the Watch lowered her binoculars and studied the radar, she then turned to the chart.

"Quartermaster, call the Captain!"

"Aye, aye, Ma'am."

..._...

Within minutes, the Captain stepped onto his bridge.

"Captain on the bridge!"

"Okay, what have you got, Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Harvey, was the Officer of the Watch on the Forenoon Watch. She quickly brought her Captain up to date on the current situation.

"We have a vessel, Captain, four nautical miles off the port bow: she's the _Dauphin_ – French registered – and she's requesting a doctor."

The Captain studied the chart for a moment, followed by the radar.

"Okay – call away the sea-boat and send for the PMO."

"Sir!"

* * *

 ** _The Dauphin_**

The 7.8-metre, BAE Systems Pacific 24 RIB, cut across the ice-cold waters of the North Atlantic Ocean towards the French vessel. The rolling waves topped four feet and the swell was moderate but well within the capabilities of the Pacific 24. Onboard the RIB, that afternoon, was a crew of six: the helmsman, two crewmen, the _Dragon's_ Principal Medical Officer and two medical ratings.

The _Dauphin_ was not a large vessel, she had a gross tonnage of 9,593 tonnes and a length of 120 metres. Nor was she old – only ten-years-old. Her black hull was clean with only limited streaks of rust and she was otherwise a smart vessel with her white-painted upperworks. The Tricolour flew with pride from the vessel's stern as the RIB came around to the more sheltered port side of the vessel.

A companion ladder had been lowered and the PMO jumped over onto the lower platform with two ratings for company. The RIB moved off and easily kept pace with the _Dauphin_.

..._...

Forty minutes later, the PMO left the cabin where he had found a crewman with what turned out to be a mild inflammation of the appendix. The PMO had advised the _Dauphin's_ Captain to get the man to shore and he had proscribed a course of antibiotics. On the way, back to the main deck, a shout was heard.

"Arrêtez la fille!"

"Tais-toi!"

"What's going on?" the Royal Navy officer demanded as he saw struggling a few yards down a passageway.

"Help. . .!"

The cry sounded like that of a child but it was quickly cut off.

"Bates, Dyer, get down there!" Lieutenant Harris ordered his men.

"Sortez-la d'ici!"

"Get off that girl!" one of the Royal Navy ratings yelled as he saw that two French crewmen were struggling with a small girl on the deck.

There then began a fight, the French on one side, the British sailors on another – and then the girl! She was kicking and punching as she fought to escape both groups of sailors. Finally, three of the French crewmen were subdued – one by the girl – before she found herself pinned to a steel bulkhead by one of the British seamen.

"Calm down, lassie," the sailor suggested as the girl struggled and fought. "The Navy's 'ere!"

"Let me go, you fucking bastard!"

"We have ourselves a spirited lassie, sir," the sailor said as he eased the pressure on the girl but kept a firm hand on her upper left arm.

The young girl in question was covered in muck and it was difficult to see that her skin was, in fact, white. Her clothes were in a terrible state and there were obvious bruises on what skin was visible.

"What are you doing aboard a French vessel, girl?" the Royal Navy officer asked gently.

"I'm not saying anything until I'm off this ship."

..._...

Within minutes, the Captain of _Dauphin_ had appeared at the scene.

"Putain d'enfer!" he exclaimed and his crewmen looked scared. "Qui a amené cette fille à bord?"

One of the crewmen raised his hand and the Captain turned to a large man who stood behind him.

"Place cet homme en état d'arrestation," the Captain ordered before he turned to the infuriated Royal Navy officer. "I knew nothing about this girl. I am placing that man under arrest and he will be handed over to the authorities when we reach our destination. I can only apologise to the girl and to you and your men. Will you take her with you?"

The girl looked pleadingly up at the officer.

"Yes, she will come back to the _Dragon_. Bates, Dyer – get the girl to the seaboat."

"Aye, aye, sir!"


	11. Electra

**_Friday, 15th July, 2016_**

 ** _HMS Dragon  
North Atlantic_**

Forty minutes later, the young girl was lifted out of the seaboat and Leading Seaman Dyer took her through into the upper level of the helicopter hanger from the port boat garage and then turned right into the passageway which would take them forward. The girl looked around, her expression calculating, then she turned on Dyer, kicking him to the deck before she ran away down the passageway.

..._...

Commander Richard Perrin was heading aft when suddenly something cannoned into him, almost knocking him down. He was stunned to see that it was a young girl – a very dirty young girl to be sure, but still a young girl.

"Slow down there, young lady – where's the fire?"

"There's no ruddy fire," the girl retorted insolently.

"You came from the French ship?"

"Where the fuck else, dickhead?"

Commander Perrin paused and he took a deep breath; he was well used to angry little girls.

"Okay – let's start again, shall we? I am Commander Richard Perrin. I am the Captain of _HMS Dragon_ – this warship. Now, what is your name?"

The girl hesitated for almost a whole minute before she decided that to give up her name would not hurt her future prospects. It was obvious to the Commander that the girl had some severe trust issues.

"Electra."

..._...

"That wasn't too hard, now, was it? You are perfectly safe in my ship, Electra, and you are welcome aboard the _Dragon_. Why don't we see if we can get you cleaned up, shall we? Let me show you to the sickbay where you can get a wash and perhaps some clean clothes. The PMO will check you over and then you and me can have a little chat."

Commander Perrin held out his hand to the girl who hesitantly reached out and took it. She was led down the corridor and then into the sickbay where the PMO, Lieutenant Andrew Bond was writing up his report of the visit to the _Dauphin_.

"Hello, again," the officer offered cheerfully.

"Electra, here, was making a bid for freedom before she flattened me. Please see to it that she has a wash, is checked out, and she receives clean clothing. When you are done, please have her brought to my sea cabin," Commander Perrin said.

"Yes, sir."

..._...

A little over an hour later, there was a knock on the doorframe of Commander Perrin's 'at sea' cabin.

"Come!"

A young female sailor entered the cabin, with a young girl in tow.

"POMA Saddler reporting as ordered, Captain. I have Electra, here, for you."

Commander Perrin studied the much cleaner young girl who was now dressed in a selection of decidedly over-large RN uniform. He smiled.

"Wow! Is this the same girl who almost knocked me down, earlier? It can't be. . ."

"Funny, err . . . sir," Electra said with a shy grin.

"Electra has some bruises – quite a few actually – not to mention a few cuts but nothing life threatening, sir. Took a while to clean her off, but we got there in the end!"

"You hungry, Electra?" Commander Perrin enquired.

The hopeful look and a smile answered his question.

"I'll take care of it, sir," POMA Saddler suggested as she handed over a file of paperwork to her Captain.

"Thank you, Petty Officer."

..._...

Within twenty minutes, Electra was wolfing down sandwiches, crisps, and her second can of Coke.

She had not said anything other than a brief 'thank you' as the food had arrived. Commander Perrin had simply sat in his chair and just watched the young girl eat while his brain went to work. He had the girl's medical report on his desk. One item, in particular, intrigued him: '...single tattoo, behind right ear, a commando dagger..."

"You remind me of two little girls I have at home."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"They have the same tattoo as you have – the one behind your right ear."

Electra stopped eating and she looked worried.

"You know what I am?" she said dejectedly.

"Yes, Electra, I do. You are, or rather you were, a _Predator_. How old are you?"

Electra looked resigned to her fate.

"Nine."

"Okay. Nobody else on board knows what a _Predator_ is – so let's just keep that little piece of information between us, eh?"

Electra smiled conspiratorially.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 ** _That same afternoon_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Scotland, United Kingdom_**

"Okay – we start with Prowl," Cassie suggested. "Strip – everything."

Without a moment's hesitation, Naomi pulled off her clothes and she soon stood naked before her cousin, Harper, Cassie, and Natasha.

"Put these on," Natasha said as she passed her two items of clothing.

Both items were black and consisted of a pair of 'boy shorts' and a sleeveless T-shirt. Naomi quickly pulled them on and then awaited her next set of instructions. Natasha handed the girl the dark grey undersuit which weighed very little and it allowed the skin to breathe during extreme activities; it was also stab and bullet resistant to Type IIA standards.

The combat suit was full-body and made up of sections. The modular contoured armour, in black with a broad gold trim, clipped onto the undersuit and joined to the other sections of armour to form a semi-rigid Type II and Type IIIA armour that covered the important parts of the human body. The Type IIIA armour covered the chest and upper back. The armour was ultra-flexible and ultra-light which suited the light-framed vigilante.

The full-face mask was fitted with an anti-lift feature as well as being fitted with the standard voice changing technology as used by the other members of _Vengeance_ as well as those in _Fusion_. Prowl's mask also featured cat-like ears which were gold with black insides. For intimidation purposes, the eyes of the mask glowed a dull blue and the eyes were shaped like those of a cat.

A lightweight utility belt was fitted with a compact, integrated encrypted communications system. Prowl's SIG Sauer P938 BRG pistol fitted securely into a holster that was mounted on her right thigh, with three spare magazines mounted around the back of her utility belt. To protect the hands, a set of armoured gauntlets were supplied.

The gauntlets were very special. They had gold backs, while the palms and fingers were black. Embedded inside each gauntlet there was a nasty set of viciously curved blades which could be deployed from the palm for the fingers to wrap around. The sharp and very lethal blades were designed to slash through skin and muscle. The claws, of Indian origin, were originally believed to have been inspired by the traditional armament of big cats.

Finally, were a pair of custom-made, black leather boots which would protect Prowl's feet from blades and other sharp objects.

Prowl looked awesome as she turned around slowly so that everybody could see every inch of the young vigilante, not to mention the six-inch combat knife in a scabbard on her left calf. On her lower back, was the rubber grip of a two-foot Tactical Machete which was mounted from right to left, across her back.

"It feels like a second skin and it's a lot lighter than I thought it would be," Prowl commented as her peers looked on in awe.

..._...

Before Cassie could say a word, Kaitlin was kicking off her own knickers and she stood before everybody, stark naked.

"Me, next!"

Natasha laughed as she threw an identical set of boy shorts and a T-shirt to the naked girl. Natasha handed the girl the same dark grey undersuit as her cousin which the eight-year-old readily pulled on. The combat suit was full-body and made up of sections. The modular contoured armour, in black with a broad blue trim, clipped onto the undersuit and joined to the other sections of armour to form a semi-rigid Type II and Type IIIA armour that covered the important parts of the human body. The Type IIIA armour covered the chest and upper back. The armour was ultra-flexible and ultra-light which suited the younger vigilante.

The full-face mask was fitted with the same anti-lift feature as well as being fitted with the same voice changing technology. Glide's mask also featured a more rounded set of ears which were blue with black insides. For intimidation purposes, the eyes of the mask glowed a dull green.

The same lightweight utility belt fitted with a compact, integrated encrypted communications system was worn. Glide's Smith & Wesson M&P 22 Compact pistol fitted securely into a holster that was mounted on her right thigh, with three spare magazines mounted around the back of her utility belt. To protect the hands, a set of armoured gauntlets were supplied.

The gauntlets were almost identical to those of her cousin. They had blue backs, while the palms and fingers were black. Each gauntlet was weighted to increase the hitting power of the small girl. For her feet, she wore the same pair of custom-made, black leather boots. Again, she had a six-inch combat knife in a scabbard on her left calf. Like her cousin, Glide also had a melee weapon – in her case, it was a seventeen-inch Tactical Kukri Machete. The vigilante turned to glare at her compatriots.

"Don't push it," she growled. "Don't push it or I'll give you a war you won't believe."

Everybody burst out laughing.

..._...

"When you goddamn fuckwits have quite finished. . ." Harper yelled as she finished stripping her own clothes off.

"Cocky bitch!" Natasha chuckled as she passed over the same set of underclothes and the same dark grey undersuit.

The combat suit was full-body and made up of sections. The modular contoured armour, in black with a broad green trim, clipped onto the undersuit and joined to the other sections of armour to form a semi-rigid Type II and Type IIIA armour that covered the important parts of the human body. The Type IIIA armour covered the chest and upper back. The armour was ultra-flexible and ultra-light.

The full-face mask was fitted with the same anti-lift feature as well as being fitted with the same voice changing technology. Polaris' mask differed in having a mush slimmer and more conformal set of ears which were green with black insides. For intimidation purposes, the eyes of the mask glowed a dull red.

The same lightweight utility belt fitted with a compact, integrated encrypted communications system was worn. Polaris' SIG Sauer P238 Compact pistol fitted securely into a holster that was mounted on her right thigh, with three spare magazines mounted around the back of her utility belt. To protect the hands, a set of armoured gauntlets were supplied.

The gauntlets were almost identical to those of her friends. They had green backs, while the palms and fingers were black. Finally, there were another pair of custom-made, black leather boots. As with Prowl and Glide, she carried a six-inch combat knife in a scabbard on her left calf. However, her armaments did not end there. In scabbards on her lower back, she carried a pair of lethal Petzl Ergo ice axes which were made of green painted aluminium and had a viciously serrated head which would cause irreparable damage to a human body. The pommel was fitted with a row of steel serrations which could also cause plenty of damage.

"Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!" she growled and then Polaris looked around. "Where's Scorpion?"

..._...

Scorpion entered the room in her full flight suit complete with helmet, weapons, and face mask.

The dark grey, Nomex flight suit covered her from head to toe and on her feet, she wore a pair of black, lightweight, tactical flying boots. Over the flight suit, she wore a lightweight support jacket which held a pistol on her left abdomen angled across her body toward her right hand. Three spare magazines were stowed on the right side. A tactical knife was worn in a scabbard on her the lower left leg of the flight suit above her boot. Communications equipment was inserted in pockets on the support jacket.

On the left chest of the support jacket, Scorpion wore the patch that bore her wings, plus her designation: 'VENGEANCE' and 'SCORPION'. Her helmet bore a set of NVGs which were hinged upwards. What was visible of her face mask was blue and green.

"I don't care how much you fine me, but bloody hell, Scorpion, you look fucking awesome!" Polaris blurted out.

"I'll let you off, kid," Scorpion growled as she turned away.

"Glide looks great. . ." Cassie chuckled and then she went to pat the short vigilante's head.

"That hand touches my head and the next thing it touches will be the ground," Glide growled.

"So evil, yet so cute!" Natasha laughed.

"I can still smack you, bitch!"

"Okay, Q – show 'em," Scorpion called out as she turned back.

"Woah!" Polaris commented as she studied the new look.

Scorpion had connected up her face shield and lowered her tinted visor – she looked very ominous.

"Polaris – go stand with your little friends," Scorpion suggested.

Polaris did so and she turned to face her sister who pointed up at a large wall-mounted screen. There, an image of a heads-up-display was visible. As the three girls looked closely, they could see themselves.

"Cool!" Prowl exclaimed as she held up two fingers behind her cousin's head like a set of bunny ears.

"Hey!" Glide complained.

"Polaris?"

"Yeah?" Polaris replied as she turned towards her sister.

Nobody had seen Scorpion easing off the clip holding her Glock 17 pistol in place. With amazing speed, she drew the weapon, sighted on Polaris' chest armour and squeezed the trigger twice. The nine-year-old cannoned backwards into the other two girls and all three went down.

"Strike!" Scorpion yelled out.

"I hate you all!" Polaris called out as she rubbed her chest.

* * *

 **The next morning  
Saturday, 16th July**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Harper and Keira had spent the night at their former home.

That morning, after breakfast, the girls were told to dress in jeans and long-sleeved tops. That was a surprise as they would normally just wear shorts and T-shirts – it was hot outside, after all. They were told to meet up down in the central paddock for the next phase of their vigilante training. Alexandra Perrin told the girls that their instructor would meet them there at 10 o'clock sharp.

All three girls cocked an eyebrow as they found themselves standing in the middle of a six-acre paddock where there were about six traffic cones arranged in a large rectangle, plus several dozen rectangular hay bales, plus one large cylindrical hay bale which had a wooden plank leaning against it. A few minutes later, at the stroke of ten, a silver Land Rover Defender 110 drive towards them with a covered trailer following along behind. The vehicle and trailer combination stopped a few yards from the traffic cones and out of the driver's seat climbed Cameron.

"Morning, girls!"

"Hi, Cam – you our instructor?"

"Oh, no – that would be somebody else. . ."

Cameron waved at the Land Rover and there was the sound of a motorcycle as 'somebody else' appeared at speed and skidded around the Land Rover before accelerating down the length of the paddock, turning, and then making for the wooden plank. The motorcycle accelerated before hitting the plank and leaping into the air. The machine came down onto the grass of the paddock, the rider making it look super easy.

After a small deceleration run, the rider headed for the three girls, skidding to a halt within inches of Harper. The rider cut the engine of the Honda XR650L and raised up the visor on her helmet.

"Keira!" Harper exclaimed in awe.

..._...

After dismounting and removing her full-face helmet, Keira turned to the three girls.

"You have ahead of you a gruelling six-week course and I will not be going easy on _any_ of you."

"Your sister can ride a motorcycle?" Naomi demanded.

"I forgot – sorry," Harper replied.

"You were really good, Keira," Kaitlin offered.

"Thanks – but I'm still not going to go easy on you, Kaitlin."

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" the eight-year-old replied with a mock salute.

"Now – you three are going to learn to ride a motorcycle. Cassie does not think it a very promising idea – especially for you, Kaitlin."

"I'm not fragile, you know," Kaitlin commented.

"That's what I said – so, I persuaded Cassie to let you join your cousin and Harper. Either way, you guys need to be able to ride – you're all too short to reach the pedals in a car, so a motorcycle is the next best option."

Harper and Naomi bristled at the mention of them being too short but they said nothing.

"You will all take your time over this task. I will expect you to take it seriously. . ."

"God, she goes on!" Harper muttered to Naomi who giggled.

"First warning, Harper," Keira said with a glare at her sister. "If you do not take this seriously then you will not be allowed to take part – understand?"

"Yes," Kaitlin offered.

"Yes, Keira," Naomi added.

"Yes, Keira!" Harper mimicked as Naomi scowled.

"Harper!"

"She still thinks she's in the fucking Navy!"

"Enough, Harper – drop and give me ten!"

"What!"

"Drop and give me fifteen!"

Harper opened and closed her mouth twice before her shoulders slumped and she got down on her knees. The humiliation of the put-down by her own sister rankled and Harper resented it.

"Sound 'em out, too," Keira ordered.

"One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten . . . eleven . . . twelve . . . thirteen . . . fourteen . . . fifteen."

"Now, get up, and keep that mouth of yours firmly shut."

Harper glowered at her sister who ignored Harper's plight completely. Keira was professional to the core and if Harper wanted to fuck about then she would pay the price. Keira was determined to be a part of _Vengeance_ and as a Royal Navy Officer, she had plenty of skills available. Two of those skills were taking command and instructing others in new skills.

..._...

"Okay, girls, now Harper has decided to grow up, we shall continue."

Harper glowered at the ground, studiously ignoring the glances from her friends – and those from her sister.

"You will learn on shitty little bikes that have no power and that can't be used on the road, but they will be easier for you to learn on, especially when you come off and you will – your rides!"

Out of the back of the trailer, Cameron wheeled out first one, then two, and finally a third, identical motorcycle: all Honda CRF125F motorcycles. He then produced three off-road helmets, in a light blue, a pale yellow, and a bright pink.

"I want to go first!" Kaitlin insisted as she seized the bright pink helmet.

Naomi rolled her eyes and Harper scoffed.

"Well, young Kaitlin," Keira warned. "You fall and break your little neck, don't you come whining to me."

"That joke is _so_ old!" Kaitlin growled.

"Now, Kaitlin is a little shorter than you two. . ."

"Not _my_ fault!" Kaitlin complained indignantly.

Keira laughed.

"No, honey, it's not."

While Cameron supported one of the motorcycles, Keira showed Kaitlin how to mount the machine. Once the young girl was sat safely with her backside on the seat, Keira waved Harper and Naomi over to watch the next part.

"The controls. . ."

Keira took the three girls through the Honda's very basic controls: ignition switch, clutch lever, front brake, throttle grip, engine stop button, rear brake pedal, gear shift lever, fuel valve, and kickstarter. The three girls were very attentive having switched into _Predator_ mode. Keira explained the positions of the gear shift lever; horizontal for neutral, first gear, one notch down, and then second to fifth gears above the neutral position.

Confirming that the gearbox was in neutral, Keira directed Kaitlin to press the starter button located below the right handgrip. With the brief sound of a starter motor, the engine jumped to life, ticking away quietly. Kaitlin twisted the right handgrip and she smiled as the engine revved up and down to her command. Keira studied Kaitlin's expression of longing and she laughed.

"You really want to make a fool of yourself?" she asked as she securely tightened the safety helmet on the little girl's head.

The grin was a resounding 'yes'! Keira explained how the clutch operated and she let Kaitlin pull the clutch lever, then push down on the gear change lever.

"You ready?" Keira asked, smiling encouragingly.

"Yes . . ." Kaitlin replied, sounding anything but positive – her previous bravado appeared to have melted away.

"Let in the clutch . . . gently. Remember, when you stop you must pull the clutch lever or you will stall. Ignore the front brake for now. Use the rear brake, down here. Twist the throttle backward to go faster, twist it forwards to go slower."

"Okay . . ."

"Don't look at the front tyre, try to look ahead and don't worry if you fall, okay?"

Kaitlin nodded, still a little apprehensive.

"Apply a little gas, then let in the clutch . . . gently! Try and follow the course, around the cones, keeping it slow," Keira instructed.

They all watched with baited breath as Kaitlin twisted the throttle gently and then let in the clutch. . . As Cameron released his hold on the motorcycle, it moved, jerkily, but it moved and kept moving. She made it about fifteen yards before she twisted the throttle too much and the machine bucked up onto the rear wheel and Kaitlin fell off onto the grass – the motorcycle crashing into a hay bale and falling onto its side.

Everybody ran towards Kaitlin as she lay on her back in the soft grass . . . she was giggling fit to burst and the look on her face was priceless; her smile went from ear to ear!

"Was that good?" Keira asked, laughing.

"Fuck, yeah!"

..._...

"Me . . . me . . ." Harper called out, but then she stopped as Keira glared at her. "Please may I be next, miss?"

"You can both go together."

With that, Keira and Cameron repeated the same steps that Kaitlin had taken with Harper and Naomi. The older girls fared little better at first and both found themselves a few yards away from where Kaitlin had fallen, giggling their heads off as they lay on the grass!

"A good start, girls – now let's try that again."

..._...

Two hours later, all three girls were gently working their way around the course in first gear, and staying on two wheels the whole time. It wasn't all that easy to coax them off the machines, but all three were very tired and offering a cold fizzy drink helped.

As the three girls sat on the grass, sweat dripping from their faces, they each sipped on their well-earned cans of Irn-Bru.

"You each did well, despite Harper's inauspicious start," Keira commented.

Harper's face went red as she smiled.

"I agree," Cameron added. "Well done, girls."

All three _Predators_ beamed with pride.

..._...

Once Cameron had stowed the three motorcycles in the trailer, he took off back towards the large barn to the south-west of the grounds. Just as Keira made to follow on her motorcycle, Harper stopped her.

"Sorry I was showing off, Keira. I'm sorry I was a bitch, too. Thanks for teaching us how to ride, today."

"While I would prefer the polite Harper, I am just happy to have my Harper back," Keira replied and the two sisters hugged. "Enjoy your walk girls!"

Keira sped off leaving the three girls to walk back to the house with their helmets in their hands.

"That was the best day ever!" Kaitlin exclaimed.

"Yes, it was," Naomi added.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _East Mayfield_**

"Keira. . ."

"Sorry to wake you, but I've just had a call from my Dad," Cassie explained. "He's come across another one."

Keira knew exactly what Cassie mean by 'another one'.

"How can I help?"

"We need somebody to fly down to Ascension – be warned, it's a long flight."

"No problem – I'll take short arse with me."

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Monday, 18th July_**

 ** _Wideawake Field, Ascension Island  
South Atlantic Ocean_**

The Gulfstream G550 executive jet taxied off the 3,054-metre long runway and headed for the dispersal.

Several minutes later, a Royal Navy Wildcat HMA.2 maritime attack helicopter came in from the south-east and hovered for a moment before it settled onto the concrete hardstanding, a dozen or so yards from the parked G550 jet. As the four-bladed main rotor came to a stop, the starboard door was hauled open and a man jumped out and quickly placed a pair of chocks on either end of the port undercarriage tyre. Next out was a tall man wearing the three gold stripes of a Commander. He turned to help a small girl out of the helicopter – but she jumped before she could be helped!

The man led the young girl across the concrete hardstanding towards the G550 executive jet. At the base of the steps, towards the front of the jet on the port side, two people waited. One was an adult with medium-length deep brown hair. Beside her stood a young girl of similar height and stature to the approaching girl. The girl smiled happily as the man approached and stopped before her.

"Electra, please meet Keira and . . ."

"Harper!" Harper chipped in.

". . . yes . . . they are going to take you back to the UK and then look after you once you are there. You will be perfectly safe; Keira holds the rank of Lieutenant in the Royal Navy and she is a helicopter pilot. Harper was a _Predator_ , just like yourself."

Harper leaned forwards and she allowed Electra to look behind her right ear. Electra smiled grimly.

"Phase 2 – you Phase 1?" Harper asked.

"Yeah . . . I was," Electra replied.

"Cool – let's go sit down; it's damn hot out here!" Harper suggested.

Electra looked up at Commander Perrin who nodded encouragingly.

"Thank you, sir," she said as she gave him a brief hug and then she hesitated as Harper held out her hand to Electra.

"I don't bite – unless provoked!"

Electra laughed and she took the offered hand before following Harper up the steps and into the Gulfstream aircraft.

"Cassie's jealous as hell for missing this," Keira commented. "Not sure she'd have enjoyed almost nine hours each way in a plane with Harper!"

"I miss them, very much. Please, give them all my love when you get back to blighty."

"I will, sir. See you at the end of your deployment, Commander."


	12. The New Girl

**_Wednesday, 20th July, 2016  
Early morning_**

 ** _Two miles east of Blairhoyle_**

"You are going to get us into trouble, Kaitlin," Naomi hissed.

"Just stick with the plan and we'll be fine," Kaitlin hissed back.

Naomi trusted her cousin . . . to a point . . . but it had been Kaitlin's idea to hide in the classroom, back in France and not to fight as they had been ordered to. It was an idea that had been the best idea ever as far as the two cousins were concerned. Right at that moment, though – two o'clock in the morning – Naomi felt that Kaitlin was pushing it a bit.

"You really are certifiable."

* * *

Police Sergeant Roger Barlow, along with his shift partner, Police Constable Clive Forbes, were seated in their BMW 3-series police car.

It had been a slow night – so, after finishing off their beat checking for inebriated drivers, they parked up and clocked off for forty minutes. Sergeant Barlow was over the moon at being able to just rest with no problems and just peace and quiet. He closed his eyes and he visualised himself lying on a warm beach in the Caribbean. The sand was warm, the sea soothed him into a gentle slumber as the sun warmed his . . . The Sergeant came awake with a start.

"Err, Sarge . . ."

"What the hell are you doing, Forbes? I was enjoying . . ."

Forbes was pointing out the windscreen of the car to where two smiling faces looked back at them. Sergeant Barlow groaned as he recognised the shorter of the two girls.

"Wasn't she the girl who wrecked your last BMW, Sarge?" Constable Forbes enquired.

"Bloody hell!" Sergeant Barlow groaned as he pushed open his door and stepped out of his BMW.

..._...

"You two stay away from my car – it's new!"

Kaitlin feigned looking upset but the Sergeant was not buying it.

"No sale – Kaitlin, wasn't it?"

"That's me! This is my cousin, Naomi."

"Hello, Naomi – I hope you are more restrained than your cousin."

"Much more restrained – your tyres and windows are perfectly safe," Naomi replied.

"I wanted to apologise, Sergeant – I was going through a bad time. I'm really sorry about your car," Kaitlin said with as much sincerity as she could muster.

"Thank you, young lady. Apology accepted. We all make mistakes and I am very pleased to see that you understand your mistake and are showing remorse."

"I bought you these – sorry it isn't something better; most of my pocket money ends up in a swear jar," Kaitlin said as she passed the police officer a large box of chocolates.

Sergeant Barlow laughed out load.

"Somehow, I can believe that, Kaitlin."

"Now – can we give you two young ladies a lift home, so you can both go back to bed?"

Kaitlin smiled.

"Yes, please – my feet hurt."

* * *

 ** _A few hours later_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Cassie smiled as the two girls sat down at the table for breakfast.

"Long walk, was it?" Cassie asked casually.

"Yeah – it hurt. . ." a very tired Kaitlin replied without thinking. "Oh, crap!"

"Busted!" Cassie chuckled.

"We went to apologise to Sergeant Barlow," Naomi admitted – both girls had learnt never to lie to Cassie.

"He liked the chocolates," Cassie commented. "That was very thoughtful, Kaitlin."

"You knew?" Kaitlin demanded.

"I've been keeping a very sharp eye on you two little girls," Cassie explained.

She received a pair of angry glares.

"You don't trust us?" Naomi demanded angrily, her eyes spitting fire.

Cassie just raised an eyebrow. Naomi quickly calmed down and she looked very guilty.

"Point taken. I'm sorry for sneaking out last night," Naomi said quietly.

"Me too," Kaitlin admitted. "It was my idea – don't blame Naomi."

"Finish your breakfast, and then I'll see you both in the yard."

"Yes, Cassie," both girls replied.

* * *

The two girls were a little worried as they set foot in the yard outside.

They were both dismayed to see Cassie appear wearing a T-shirt and shorts, plus her trainers. She threw each of them the same items of clothing.

"Get changed – no . . . right there."

Kaitlin and Naomi grimaced as they toed off their trainers and very quickly pulled off their jeans and blouses. They pulled on the T-shirts and shorts, and then their trainers.

"I hope you two are feeling fit after your little stroll, this morning," Cassie chuckled as she began to run off. "Follow me, kiddies!"

The two girls followed, easily keeping up with the older girl. After a hundred yards, they stopped at the top of what was called 'The Avenue' which ran down beside the large paddock where they had ridden their motorcycles. Cassie stopped and she turned to the two young girls. She was smiling – the girls were not.

"There are forty-eight saplings, down The Avenue beside the paddock – twenty-four per side. You will both run the ninety yards from here to the bottom, and then back again."

"Sounds easy," Naomi muttered.

"You will slalom, from tree to tree, in both directions. You miss a tree, you do the whole thing again."

"Is that all?" Kaitlin asked sweetly. "We do that and then we're done?"

"Not even close, sweetie," Cassie told the eight-year-old. "Now get those little legs moving – both of you!"

* * *

 ** _Gulfstream G-550 G-CWWC_**

The flight had been long.

In all, it had been a nine thousand nautical mile return flight – eight and a half hours in each direction. Not normally a major issue in a luxury jet, but a constant pain in the ears when you had a hyperactive nine-year-old on board as your only companion! Keira had looked at the handle on the main hatch, so many times . . . but Harper was her sister, as such, she was stuck with the noisy, petulant, over-inquisitive little bitch – at least she was until the co-pilot produced a roll of Duct Tape, two thousand nautical miles or so into the trip south.

Apparently, the pilot, himself, was getting more than a little annoyed by the constant interruptions from the half-pint. Needless to say, the half-pint was not amused to find herself taped to a seat with a warning that her mouth would also be sealed if she dared to say a single word. That warning lasted about twenty nautical miles before a piece of tape found its way across her mouth. Keira was then able to get in two hours, seated in the cockpit with the pilot, while the co-pilot caught some 'zzzz' in the main cabin.

The man, his name was Hank, was an ex-USAF pilot who currently worked for Wayne Industries as their Chief Pilot. He took Keira through the basic controls of the Gulfstream jet and he allowed her to take control for a while, on manual. The aircraft was very light – it had been quite a while since Keira had flown any fixed-wing aircraft and it felt good to be in control of one again. It was also good to be flying, full stop; she really missed it.

Keira had released the furious Harper, about an hour out from Ascension Island. She had used all of her powers of persuasion to calm the nine-year-old down before landing. It took a while – plus some very creative swear words – but she eventually saw the funny side to her experience; she also swore all aboard to absolute secrecy. Hank made a deal with Harper: if she behaved for the rest of the trip, he'd let her fly the jet and he would not tell Naomi or Kaitlin about the Duct Tape.

..._...

The flight back was very different.

Harper sat with the other girl, with a table between them. Electra appeared older than Harper, but not by much. She never said much, which might have been due to Harper's verbal diarrhoea. I intervened sometime during the first hour to give Electra's ears a rest.

"Harper, honey – please give Electra time to reply. That's how a conversation works; you say something, then you shut the hell up and allow the other person to get a few words in."

Harper and Electra both laughed at that.

"Sorry, Electra," Harper apologised.

"I didn't mind. I've not heard much talking – not in English. How do you cope, Harper?"

"What do you mean?"

"We're both killers. How do you get past that? How can you be so happy?"

"I get a lot of support, is the simple answer, Electra. I get support from my sister, her friends, my friends. I have two friends, Naomi and Kaitlin. They are cousins and they are both _Predators_. Me and Naomi were bitter rivals when we were being trained. Now, we're the best of friends. We support each other and we talk about our anxieties and our problems. We can all relate to each other which helps in a big way."

"What is going to happen to me? Will I have friends?"

"I am your friend. Naomi and Kaitlin will be your friends. There are many others, too. You will never be alone again – if that is what you want."

"Thanks, Harper," Electra replied before she turned to Keira. "I'm feeling tired, can I lie down, please?"

"Of course, honey."

Keira produced a blanket and she laid it over the girl as she closed her eyes and fell asleep. Keira looked over at her sister.

"Well done; I'm proud of you."

Harper grinned enormously.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Both girls were tired but pleased that the first bit of their punishment was over.

"You ever heard of child abuse?" Kaitlin puffed at Cassie who grinned.

"Remind me, Kaitlin; you know how many ways to kill a man?"

"Okay – we're not normal children," Kaitlin groaned but then she smiled as Alexandra appeared with some ice-cold cans of Pepsi Max.

Kaitlin rolled her can across her forehead, savouring the coolness.

"That is so relaxing. . ."

Naomi did not respond as the girl took a long pull of the cold fizzy drink.

"You both know why I am punishing you, right?" Cassie asked.

"We snuck out," Kaitlin replied.

"Worse than that – you broke the trust between us. Anything could have happened to the both of you. I know what you are and a little of what you are capable of. Either way, you could easily find yourself in shit that you can't handle. Not to mention that little girls your age should not be running around at two in the morning."

"I know," Kaitlin admitted. "I just wanted to say sorry on my own. I took Naomi as backup, so I wasn't out there alone. I fucked up – I should have thought it through and asked you."

"As long as you both understand. We all care about you both – a lot. We don't want anything to happen to either of you. Not to mention that _Vengeance_ is under constant scrutiny and we would not want you two taken away from us."

Kaitlin looked fearful for a moment.

"They'd do that?" she asked, her face a maze of worry.

"Yes. Okay – I'll give you both thirty minutes to rest and then it's onto stage 2!"

* * *

Keira was both surprised and not surprised when she pulled up behind the house to see two very sweaty little girls sitting on the ground.

She climbed out of her Audi Q5 and grinned at Cassie.

"What did they do _this_ time?"

"They snuck out to apologise to Sergeant Barlow," Cassie explained. "So, you got the new girl?"

"Yes."

Keira turned to see a very shy looking Electra being pulled towards them by Harper.

"Girls – please meet Electra Haig. Electra, this is Cassie and the two sweaty things are Naomi and Kaitlin."

"Hi – we're in trouble again," Naomi admitted.

"Hello," Kaitlin added. "We get in trouble a lot."

"Harper told me that trouble finds you guys," Electra said with a grin.

"Okay, you two," Cassie said. "Go get yourselves showered and cleaned up . . . and no water fight!"

"No promises!" Naomi called back as the two cousins scampered back towards the house.

"Let me go and shower, then I'll show you around, Electra," Cassie offered.

"You do stink," Keira laughed.

"Thanks for pointing that out, Keira."

* * *

Cassie reappeared out on the back lawn, twenty minutes later, to find Electra gazing out over the fields while Harper and Keira talked quietly.

"Where are the dubious duo?" Cassie asked.

"They've not come back," Harper pointed out.

"Oh, dear," Cassie groaned. "Come, Electra – time for a tour."

Cassie led Electra into the drawing room via an outside door from the veranda. Harper and Keira followed on out of pure curiosity.

"Nice place, Cassie," Electra commented as she took in the cream walls, large bay windows and the ornate, marble fireplace.

"Thank you, Electra. Through here we have the entrance hall, and a vestibule to the left which leads to the front door – we don't use that entrance much. Straight ahead, is the library. . ."

"Woah!" Electra exclaimed. "Love the tartan carpet."

"Never been overly keen on that, myself," Cassie commented as they walked through a wide archway and then moved on down the reception hall. That door on the left leads to the yard and the garages. On the right, we have the dining room."

"Massive table!" Electra exclaimed as she looked at the enormous, fourteen-seat, polished-wood dining table.

"Next, through here . . . we have the kitchen, breakfast room, and the morning room."

"Cool!"

"And who is this?" Alexandra Perrin asked as she peered over her spectacles at the new girl from the chair where she was reading her morning newspaper.

"Mum, this is Electra . . . and yes, she's another one!" Cassie explained. "Electra, this is my Mum."

"Call me, Alexandra, Electra. Welcome to Blairhoyle."

"Thank you."

..._...

Cassie led the small troop up the winding stairs.

"Naomi and Kaitlin have the bedroom . . ."

Cassie stopped talking as a soaking wet and very naked Naomi ran out of the bedroom before turning as an equally wet and naked Kaitlin appeared and threw a jug of water over her cousin. Naomi screamed, indicating that the water was very cold.

"Girls!" Cassie called out and the two naked girls froze before they turned to see their grinning audience.

"Can't leave you two alone for a second!" Harper laughed.

Keira gave her sister a withering look.

"If you'd been here, you'd have been just as naked – and wet – as those two."

Harper grinned.

"What is it with you _Predators_?" Cassie asked the four girls, rhetorically. "Have you two at least showered?"

"Yes," Naomi replied – Kaitlin just nodded.

"Go, get dried off and get some clothes on," Cassie directed as both girls ran back into their room – giggling their heads off.

Electra was grinning too.

"This place is awesome!"

* * *

 ** _Later that day_**

Cassie was in the living room going through some _Vengeance_ intelligence on her tablet when she sensed that she was being watched.

The person watching came closer before sitting down on a chair opposite – it was Electra, and she appeared apprehensive about something.

"What's up, Electra?"

"Cassie – I lost my glasses on the ship and I've been wearing the same contact lenses for the past week. They're making my eyes sore – can we. . ."

Cassie smiled at the nine-year-old.

"You want to go find an optician?"

Electra nodded.

"Let's go!"

..._...

"Are Naomi and Kaitlin always that goofy?" Electra asked in the Golf as Cassie drove them both into Falkirk.

Cassie laughed.

"Those two are nuttier than a fruitcake with extra nuts – Harper tries to be the mature leader but she's just as nutty."

"I like them – they're funny. I hope I'll fit in . . ."

"Electra, I think that you're a perfect fit. Keira said that you and Harper got on well, on the flight back."

"I hope so – I am different. I don't like running around naked, for one . . ."

"They do that a lot – I thought it was just a _Predator_ thing."

"I suppose it is – but it was one part of being a _Predator_ that I hated."

* * *

 ** _Later . . ._**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"She looks like a dork."

"Kaitlin! Apologise!"

"Sorry, Electra."

Electra smiled.

"I am a dork and I don't mind the reference," the nine-year-old replied.

"Still," Cassie commented. "It wasn't very nice to say that."

"I apologised, okay!"

"Less of _that_ attitude, young lady, or you'll be spending the rest of the evening in your bedroom."

"You just can't keep your mouth shut, can you, Kaitlin" Naomi lectured.

"Fuck you!" came the response.

* * *

As a rule, the two girls got on reasonably well together.

At first, on their arrival in Scotland, the two cousins had been inseparable. However, as time had moved on, the two girls had begun to drift apart and there were random moments when they almost attacked each other out of anger or frustration. I had called Naomi out on it and she had explained that before _Urban Predator_ , the two girls had hated the very sight of one another. Apparently, Naomi had found her younger cousin incredibly annoying and fantastically spoilt.

During their time together in _Urban Predator_ , the two girls had buried their hate and protected one another. However, with the end of _Urban Predator_ and the chance to live a normal life, the two girls had re-developed their own personalities and habits. Those personalities and habits tended to clash in anything but a good way which usually resulted in shouting and a bit of screaming on the part of Kaitlin. Naomi would purposely bait her cousin, just to get a reaction. For example, Kaitlin had developed a soft spot for her toys – something which she had missed while being taught to kill and maim. Her favourite toy was Princess Twilight Sparkle and Kaitlin would take the soft twelve-inch version of the My Little Pony character around with her all over the house. Naomi saw the soft toy as an easy way to wind up her cousin.

After one particularly noisy session of screaming, Cassie had taken Naomi off to one side and asked her about their time as _Predators_.

* * *

 ** _Early March, 2016_**

 ** _Toulouse, France_**

The days had drifted together and it had been several months since the girl had been brought to the French facility.

Memories of her past life had faded and her mind was focussed with just surviving the endless days of beatings and abuse. Her mind was filling up with nasty, deadly, and very scary new skills. That morning, her attention was on breakfast, but while eating her usual sausage sandwich, her eyes were drawn to several new kids who filtered in for breakfast. You could tell they were new by their defeated expressions and their new clothing.

One young girl in particular attracted Naomi's attention – there was something about her but Naomi couldn't figure it out. It nagged at her mind for the rest of the morning but she couldn't figure out why the girl was familiar. At lunchtime, Naomi saw the girl again – she was sitting alone at a table in the corner of the large dining room – so she took her tray of food and sat down across from her. The young girl was staring forlornly down at her plate which held a solitary sausage.

"You know, if you're going to survive in this place, you have got to eat a proper meal on a regular basis."

"I know – my life sucks."

"Join the club – you'd better get used to it, err. . ."

The young girl looked up at Naomi and her expression became one of confusion.

"I'm Kaitlin – Kaitlin Luton . . . You're Naomi – you're my cousin, Naomi Bedford."

"What – I don't have a cousin . . . at least I don't remember having one – this place does weird things to your brain. Anyway, my name _is_ Naomi, but my surname: it's Ward, not Bedford."

"I remember you – my Mum told me that you went missing; it was about a year ago, I think – you look different, but I'm certain that it's you."

"If you say so. . ."

"You used to shout at me and call me names . . . you hated me."

Naomi looked pensive for a minute as she ate her toasted cheese sandwich.

"You were spoilt rotten – a daddy's girl; you always screamed when you couldn't get your own way and you always blamed others for your own failings. Yes, I hated you."

Kaitlin grinned.

"I was a nasty little girl – but I promise to be nice . . . if you'll help me."

"Just don't bring attention to us both."

* * *

 ** _Wednesday, 20th July, 2016_**

 ** _Stirling, Scotland_**

 ** _Drift and Crimson_**

The two sibling vigilantes had spent the evening cruising around Stirling.

Drift was astride his dark blue Triumph Tiger Sport. He rode just two feet away from Crimson, who was astride her Triumph Speed 94. The night had been boring, to that point, with not much happening in the City of Stirling. Crimson decided to venture into some of the side streets – but in a stealthier fashion than on a high-powered motorcycle.

Sirens had been heard a few minutes earlier, so they had opted to head off in that direction. After a few minutes, as they came closer, they could hear yelling and arguing coming from the next street over, so after a brief exchange of glances, they went for a gander. On turning the corner, Drift frowned and he felt anger surge up within him as he took in the scene which was laid out before the two vigilantes.

A big red, Volvo fire engine was parked at the side of the road, blue lights flashing. The fire engine's crew were attempting to attack a blazing car with their hoses. But instead of the crew being supported in their actions by the local community, the younger members of that community were pelting the firefighters with anything that they could get their hands on – rocks, beer bottles, cans. A Ford Focus police car, blue lights flashing, was parked further down the street and I scowled as I took in a police officer who had obviously attempted to intervene but was now being treated by a firefighter who attempted to treat a vicious looking head wound while both he and the police officer were still being pelted with detritus.

Drift ran forwards, his sister following on his heels. As the _Vengeance_ vigilantes approached, the cunts turned toward them both and they instantly became the targets. Both Drift and Crimson could see the grateful looks on the faces of the emergency services personnel as the two vigilantes absorbed the bottles and rocks. To be frank, neither were too bothered as their armour protected them from the impacts and the welcome distraction gave the firefighters time to put out the blaze.

..._...

By the time the blaze was out, the youths were angry – their fun had been quite literally extinguished. An even dozen of the youths turned on the those who they held responsible for removing their evening fun. Drift and Crimson both dialled back their anger – they were dealing with immature youths, not hardened criminals. Nonetheless, the vigilantes defended themselves.

Not that it took much – most of the youths were fuelled with their usual Bucky, so they had no real idea what they were doing, let alone that they had no chance whatsoever of defeating two armour-clad, heavily-armed, vigilantes. The first youth came forward with a steel bar in his hand, he struck out at Crimson who ducked out of the way and buried her fist into his stomach. The youth went down hard before he was set upon and handcuffed by a female police officer who had just arrived on the scene.

Drift took no time in putting down the next pair as his sister faced off against a young woman armed with a large knife.

"Put it down, honey," Crimson growled.

"Fuck you, slag."

Crimson easily batted away the knife, unconcerned with the sharp blade. The young woman was angry and very drunk, so she continued with her attack – to no avail as Crimson slapped her across the face and the young woman span backwards into the waiting arms of a large police officer.

"Keep 'em coming!" the police officer called out.

It was barely five more minutes before the last drunk youth collapsed onto the ground, only to be dragged back to their feet by a waiting police officer.

"Thank you, _Vengeance_ – your help was much appreciated," the senior fire officer said as his men mounted their engine.

"We enjoy a bit of fun," Drift commented as he and Crimson headed back to their motorcycles.

..._...

As they each swung their legs over their rides, they talked about the evening.

"You two gonna talk all day?" came a voice out of the darkness.

Crimson turned at the sound of a motorcycle as a dark grey KTM 1290 Super Duke GT emerged from the darkness. The rider, clad in dark grey armour, smiled.

"Let's go kick some arse!" Nemesis persisted.

"Impatient bitch," Crimson laughed as she started her three-cylinder, 1,050cc engine.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!" Drift called out as he accelerated away.

The girls just shook their heads as they accelerated after their colleague.


	13. Scorpion

**_Three days later  
Saturday, July 23rd, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

It was another sunny morning in Scotland.

"Stop!" Keira almost shouted as she came into the dining room. "Don't fucking move a muscle!"

Kaitlin froze.

"I mean this in the nicest possible way – are you just stupid?" Keira went on. "And Harper – why would you participate in this? You are two very stupid little girls!"

Harper was sitting in a chair at the table with her left hand flat on the table, palm down. Kaitlin stood to her right with her own left hand on top of Harper's. A commando dagger was held in Kaitlin's right hand and the point was poised, vertically, between thumb and forefinger.

"Just 'cause you watched Aliens, last night, does _not_ mean that you can replicate what you see. I specifically warned the three of you – where _is_ the other one?"

"Naomi thought it was stupid," Harper commented meekly.

"At least she has half a brain – unlike the two of you. A tenner, from each of you, in the jar – for being so _bloody_ stupid!"

Both girls looked aghast at their hefty fine but they also felt ashamed as they thought through what they had been about to do.

* * *

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

Pissed as a newt!

My twin had arrived home very late the previous evening and despite her varied attempts at staying quiet, she had banged and giggled her way into the house and then fallen _up_ the stairs as she had made her noisy way to her bedroom. In response, I had just turned up the TV in my own bedroom to cover the noise of her collapsing into her bedroom.

The following morning, I pushed open her bedroom door and smiled. Natasha was all but naked and she was stretched out on her bed – snoring. It wasn't the first time I had seen my sister naked – we were both fairly casual about nudity considering it was just us in the house. As such, I wasn't surprised to see that she had been taking the clippers to herself again. She had spent the past few years trying out different designs and currently, she had a narrow landing strip as evidence of her latest experiments.

I walked out and headed down to the kitchen where I quickly found what I was looking for and after making some adjustments, I headed back upstairs to where my sibling was still snoring. I implemented my plan and quickly jumped backwards as she screamed out and spluttered through the freezing water which I had just thrown over her body and face.

"You fucking bastard!"

"Couldn't resist, Nats – you seemed to have had a skin full, last night."

"Maybe a tad too much Lambs – got into a drinking competition with Jade and Matt."

"You never learn, do you!"

"Apparently not. . ."

"Wasn't Cassie with you?"

"It was _her_ idea to drink Lambs."

"You _do_ remember that she comes from a naval family?"

"Yes . . .?"

"You can be _so_ thick sometimes!" Cameron groaned as he face-slapped himself.

Natasha scowled and she waited for her brother to continue, gathering up the duvet to restore what was left of her rather wet dignity.

"Sarah started drinking Pusser's Rum when she was seventeen, then she got Cassie drinking rum when _she_ was seventeen. Those two can drink anybody under the table. Most see diminutive little Cassie and assume she's a lightweight – much to their chagrin when they're lying on the floor sometime later!"

"Okay – I forgot!"

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Naomi had decided that it would be much safer to be a long way away from Kaitlin and Harper when they got crazy ideas in their heads. As such, she had returned to her bedroom to dress. She heard the shower running but ignored it as she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Holy, crap!" Naomi exploded when she saw Electra in the shower.

"Huh?"

"That!"

"Oh, you mean my scar?"

"It's like twenty feet long!"

"Considering my limited height, that might be a _slight_ exaggeration," Electra deadpanned.

"Not by much . . ." Kaitlin added as she appeared to see what the commotion was all about.

Both girls stared at Electra's body. There was indeed a long thin scar running across her body; it was at its largest, just above her right breast where it then ran diagonally downwards, across her chest, her stomach, and then to where it was thinnest, ending on her left thigh.

"I don't want to talk about it – so don't ask," Electra said pointedly. "Now, could I please get on with my shower, or are you both enjoying a free look at my naked body?"

Naomi and Kaitlin left Electra to her shower.

"You see the stab wounds?" Kaitlin asked her cousin.

"Yeah – Electra's been to war."

* * *

 ** _Later that morning_**

"Okay bitch, let's see what you can do now!" Electra growled.

Kaitlin laughed as Harper ran at Electra who neatly sidestepped the first attack but she missed the feint and then received a punch to her upper back as recompense. Electra yelled out in pain but she did not falter as she swept Harper's left leg out from under her. Harper lost her footing and collapsed onto the mat.

"You fight well, Electra," she commented.

"I had a good teacher."

"An instructor?" Naomi asked, dumbfounded to hear anybody refer to an _Urban Predator_ Instructor as such.

"No – another _Predator_."

"Okay. . ." Harper commented. "How much exposure did you have to fighting?"

"A lot – but I'd rather not talk about it, thanks."

"No sweat," Harper replied.

They all had horrors that they did not want to talk about, so they respected Electra's silence.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

While Harper sat watching TV with Electra, Kaitlin was winding up her cousin.

"Cassie!"

"Naomi – she's eight; she just wants attention," Cassie replied.

"I'll give her attention," Naomi muttered as she tried to watch TV.

Kaitlin continued with her annoying behaviour from behind her cousin.

"Cassie!"

"Naomi – stop bleating. What would a _Predator_ do?"

"Oh, right. . ." Naomi muttered as she brought her right arm back and punched her cousin in the face.

Kaitlin screamed out as blood exploded from her nose and despite her conditioning against pain, Kaitlin had tears streaming down her face.

"Naomi!"

"That was awesome!" Electra giggled as Harper howled with laughter.

* * *

 **A couple of hours later . . .**

"Is this wise?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, was it wise to let them watch a film like this one? Look at what happened after they watched Aliens?"

"It's a kid's movie," Cassie pointed out to Keira.

"I know – but they could get _so_ many ideas; all bad ones."

Cassie laughed as the final credits rolled and she listened to the end of the theme song.

 _We are the best, so screw the rest  
We do as we damn well please  
Until the end  
St Trinian's  
Defenders of anarchy_

 _Victorious, rebellious  
We do as we damn well please  
Until the end  
St Trinian's  
Defenders of anarchy  
ST TRINIAN'S!_

 _Don't let the bastards get you down._

Only, four little girls had amended the lyrics and they had replaced _St Trinian's_ with _Predators_. By the end, all four were jumping up and down on the sofas without the slightest attempt at dignity or restraint.

It was good to see Electra finally letting her hair down and enjoying some fun.

* * *

 ** _Just over two weeks later  
Monday, August 8th _**

**_MoD Boscombe Down_**

MoD Boscombe Down was one of the few places in the United Kingdom where you could be carted away by Special Branch if you so much as _thought_ of pointing a camera at the facility. The site was where the United Kingdom tested new aircraft designs and other secret air vehicles. The operation of 'black' aircraft was also very common and flights, both in and out, were _never_ acknowledged by Her Majesty's Government.

As such, Keira was _very_ surprised to have been waved through the main gate. They had studied her MI5 identification, then her face, checked a list, and then passed her through with a smile and a salute. Access to the airfield was strictly controlled and Keira had expected to have to go through an extended entry process as was usual for most visitors to the site. Keira followed the strict instructions provided and she parked her red Audi Q5 where designated, leaving a vehicle pass prominently displayed on the dashboard. There, standing beside her rented Jaguar F-Pace, just a few feet away, was Mindy Lizewski.

"You ready for this, Keira?" she asked as Keira climbed out of her car.

"As ever!" Keira chuckled as she grabbed a kit bag and her flight bag from the back seat.

..._...

"No uniform, this time?" Keira asked.

"That uniform sucked – don't know how you wore it!" Mindy laughed.

"You got used to it," Keira commented.

After visiting a changing area where the two women changed into their flight suits, they were waved into the backseat of a British Army Panther painted in a dark grey. The roof-mounted turret was fitted with an L7 general-purpose machinegun and an ammo-box. Security was obviously taken very seriously at the airbase! After a short drive, the vehicle stopped outside the closed doors of a hardened aircraft shelter. A uniformed soldier of the RAF Regiment appeared and he checked the women's identification before he signalled for the doors to open. A siren sounded and a pair of amber beacons flashed. Slowly the blast doors slid sideways before they stopped, leaving a four-metre gap.

The soldier waved the flight=suited women inside.

..._...

Keira had waited _weeks_ for the moment. She had read every damn tech-order that she could get her hands on, learning the machine right down to each individual nut and bolt . . . and now, she was face to face with her future.

She was gorgeous.

Keira thought that she might actually lose control for a moment, but she controlled herself as she examined her new command and inhaled the sweet smell of aviation turbine fuel. She was sleek, she was deadly . . . and most importantly, she was Keira's. Stats flashed through the pilot's mind as she ran her hands over the polished skin.

 _Cruise speed: 153 knots. Total fuel capacity: 233 gallons. Rate of climb: 1,700 feet-per-minute. Ceiling: 11,500 feet.  
Propulsion: twin Turbomeca Arrius 2K-2 turbines producing 714 shaft-horsepower each. Maximum take-off weight: 7,055 pounds._

"Scorpion – meet _Twilight_!" Mindy chuckled as she saw her friend drool over the helicopter.

The Agusta-Westland AW109LUH helicopter was state of the art and she was equally at home transporting up to seven passengers or destroying armoured vehicles with rockets and machineguns. As Mindy had mentioned, the helicopter was called _Twilight_ , and she was painted in a matt dark grey while her registration code was painted in a slightly lighter grey on both sides of her tail boom: **G-VENG**.

For the moment, the helicopter was unarmed – they were only there for a check ride.

* * *

 ** _A short time later. . ._**

The blast doors were now fully open and the rotor-blades above the helicopter were spinning at speed. Anti-collision lights were active and flashing steadily. The aircraft was operating perfectly.

Keira depressed the radio button on the cyclic control column.

"Boscombe, this is Tango Victor standing by to taxi from Shelter Two-Three, over."

Keira peered over at Mindy as she sat strapped into the left-hand seat. She appeared nervous but then so was she; she was about to launch, solo, for the first time in many months. It felt strange wearing an all-black flight suit rather than something more conventional but Keira was proud of her personal callsign. The all-glass cockpit was state of the art and perfectly suited to solo flight.

"Tango Victor, Boscombe. Clearance to taxi for direct launch from Shelter Two-Three. Over."

"Tango Victor, acknowledged. Out."

Keira increased the pitch of the main rotors by pushing the cyclic forwards and then she released the wheel brakes. The helicopter taxied out onto the hard-standing as the light began to fade.

It was twilight . . .

..._...

The helicopter accelerated quickly as she emerged from the hardened shelter and fast-taxied across the concrete and then just before it left the concrete for the grass, Scorpion pulled up on the collective and twisted the throttle; they became airborne.

"Undercarriage coming up!" Scorpion commented as she slid a lever upwards on the console beside her.

Hit Girl felt the three thumps as the wheels locked into place – the helicopter was now perfectly streamlined and ready for high-speed flight. Scorpion was all concentration as she cruised in a straight line for several hundred yards before she then pulled the helicopter into a hover a dozen feet over the main runway. The helicopter then moved sideways to port for several yards before Scorpion pushed down on a foot pedal, spinning the helicopter on its axis and then moving the cyclic and collective to gain both height and forward speed with the nose angled sharply downwards. All movements were smooth and controlled. Scorpion sure knew her stuff – Royal Navy pilots were arguably the best in the world – at that moment, _Twilight_ was flying sideways again and then, momentarily, backwards!

"Boscombe, Tango Victor. Clearance for VFR, hi-speed flight, and ACM. Over."

"Tango Victor, Boscombe. Clearance granted as per filed flight plan. Recommended altitude for straight and level is two thousand. Over."

"Boscombe, Tango Victor. Clearance acknowledged at two thousand. Out."

"Am I gonna like this?" Hit Girl asked as the helicopter hovered for a moment with the nose pointed due east at an altitude of sixty feet.

"You like speed, Hit Girl?" Scorpion chuckled. "Hang onto your tampon, honey!"

..._...

Without much warning, the two-tonne helicopter nosed over sharply and then shot skyward before levelling out at two-thousand feet. The airspeed indicator increased steadily until it stopped at 150 knots, indicated airspeed. _Twilight_ was going flat out. Then, suddenly and without warning, the helicopter shot upwards several thousand feet before levelling out again, they hovered for a moment, and then. . .

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" Hit Girl queried and she hoped not to sound too panicked.

"How's your backflip, Hit Girl?"

Hit Girl saw the horizon before her and then the night sky and then the horizon again as they executed a perfect backflip and followed through with the rest of the loop.

"Cool, huh!" Scorpion laughed.

"Fucking hilarious!" Hit Girl growled as she quickly regained her composure but she grinned as it _had_ been fun.

..._...

As the helicopter returned to flat and level flight, Scorpion turned to Hit Girl.

"How's your little girl?"

"Getting better every day – thanks for asking."

"The girls ask almost daily about Stephanie. She's a really big thing for them . . . and . . . well, considering what Stephanie's been through since she was seven. . ."

"I know. I always thought that my own childhood sucked – but at least I had my Daddy . . . until he died. Then I had Marcus. I am determined that Stephanie, Anne-Marie, and Danny will have a family life – they each deserve it. So – what's the new girl, like?"

"Quiet."

"Quiet?" Mindy demanded incredulously. "She's a _Predator_ , right?"

"Electra is different – she's not like Stephanie, Harper, Naomi, nor Kaitlin. I don't know what it is – she's just different."

"I look forward to meeting her – not enough time, this time around, unfortunately."

..._...

Scorpion figured that Hit Girl needed wakening up, so she hauled _Twilight_ around in a tight left-hand turn before entering a tight right-hand turn and then racing upwards towards the stars.

"Fuck!" Hit Girl groaned as she was pressed into her seat.

"Too much?" Scorpion chuckled as she pushed the nose down hard and the helicopter plummeted downwards. "Don't go hurling chunks about my cockpit, missy."

" _Your_ . . . cockpit!"

After some more air combat manoeuvres, Scorpion decided that she had shaken Hit Girl around – probably a little too much, she decided.

"So, am I good enough?"

"Just get me back on the goddamn ground!" Hit Girl growled good-naturedly but with a huge grin on her face.

* * *

Fifty minutes later, once the helicopter was safely stowed in its hanger, and both women had changed out of their flight suits, Mindy turned to Keira.

"You fancy a short road trip to Ports-mouth?"

"It's one word – not two, you ignorant colonial," Keira chuckled. "I'm for it – what for?"

"Surprise . . ."

..._...

The drive was not a short one, but two hours later, Mindy pulled up to Trafalgar Gate of HM Naval Base, Portsmouth. After their passes and paperwork had been checked, the barrier rose and Mindy moved forwards, followed by Keira. They turned left at the roundabout, picking up Circular Road and then followed the road around, passing by the old Unicorn Gate and finally taking a right into a carpark beside Fleet Way. Mindy pulled up first, followed by Keira. Once they had locked their vehicles, Mindy led Keira towards a long white, and tall building.

"What are we doing here?" Keira asked as she looked past the building and saw HMS Illustrious laid up in Number 3 Basin. "Don't tell me you bought old 'Lusty'!"

"Not quite what I was looking for; however, you may remember the vessel in here, from earlier in the year," Mindy replied somewhat cryptically.

As they passed through a door which was held open by a shipyard worker, Kiera paused as she found herself looking down 155 feet of pristine red hull. Almost directly in front of her were a pair of highly-polished, brass five-bladed, variable-pitch, propellers and two red-painted rudders. Above the red paintwork which covered the underside and keel of the vessel, the hull was a mid-grey which changed to duck-egg blue for the upperworks. Purple was much in evidence highlighting strakes on the hull. The starboard hatch for the boat garage was open and extensive work was underway inside.

"The missile struck us in the boat garage – it had to be totally rebuilt. The paint job is almost complete, I understand," Mindy explained.

"She's big!" Keira commented as she looked up at the highly-polished hull.

"Not seen this view of her since she was being built," Mindy replied as they both walked along the length of the keel.

"What are those?" Keira asked as she pointed at a pair of long oblong canisters a little under three metres long and about a third of a metre in width and height that which were lying on a wooden pallet close to the bow.

"Above your pay grade, honey!" Mindy growled as she moved on.

"I used to drop Sea Skua from my Lynx, you know."

"All will be revealed my friendly WAFU!" Mindy chuckled.

Keira chuckled.

"You been learning the RN lingo, civvy?"

* * *

"Still needs a lot of work, Mindy," Keira commented as they set foot on the bridge.

Wiring was hanging from the main console and two technicians were busy working on a radar screen. Keira was able to look down on the bow where a framework was being assembled, to port and to starboard. The Command Centre looked little better as another pair of technicians wrestled with new consoles and miles of wiring.

"Yeah – you might be right," Mindy admitted.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Tuesday, August 9th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Kaitlin was transfixed by what she was witnessing.

"You wear contact lenses?" Naomi asked.

"Yes, I do," Electra replied with a laugh as she opened up the packet for a second lens. "Here . . ."

Electra held her finger up to Kaitlin's eyes. Kaitlin focussed on the small curved hemispherical object that sat on Electra's fingertip, glistening in the lights. Kaitlin was fascinated, but then as she watched Electra place her second lens in place, she cringed.

"Ewww," Kaitlin commented. "I could never put anything in my eye, let alone a piece of plastic."

"A good friend of mine persuaded me to get contact lenses, back when she helped me become a _Predator_ , when I was only seven."

"You weren't taken to be a _Predator_?" Harper queried.

"I was a yellow – a girl called Stephanie helped me become what I am today; she saved my life by training me."

"Stephanie?" Naomi enquired. "Stephanie Walker?"

"Yeah – that's her; did you know her?"

"Not when I was a _Predator_ , but I count her as a best friend right now."

"Stephanie's alive?" Electra sounded astounded.

"For the moment," Kaitlin said darkly.


	14. France

**_Pendant ce temps, à Paris, en France. . ._**

 ** _Mardi 10 août 2016_**

La ville s'était calmée depuis la visite de Hit Girl.

Tout était revenu à la normale et surtout, mon identité secrète était sûre. J'avais aidé à accomplir un sauvetage étonnant. Des dizaines d'enfants avaient eu la chance de vivre une nouvelle vie. Je ne les ai pas envie – pas un peu. J'ai manqué l'action; La lutte contre le crime à Paris n'était pas aussi excitant que de courir avec _Fusion_.

Comme je regardais au-dessus de ma ville, j'ai senti une montée de fierté dans ce que je faisais. J'étais un vigilante. J'étais la première ligne contre ce qui affligeait ma ville. J'étais La Coccinelle.

 _"La Coccinelle . . . La Coccinelle . . . Êtes-vous là?"_

"Désolé, Contrôle, je me suis écouté un peu."

 _"Tu rêvais encore?"_

"Oui, mon ami, j'étais."

 _"N'avez-vous pas une ville pour patrouiller?"_

"Sur mon chemin . . . attendre . . . J'ai quelque chose. . ."

* * *

 _. . . okay – just setting the scene! Let's try that in English. . ._

* * *

 ** _Meanwhile, in Paris, France. . ._**

 ** _Wednesday, August 10th, 2016_**

The city had calmed down since the visit of Hit Girl.

Everything had returned to normal and most importantly, my secret identity was secure. I had helped to accomplish an amazing rescue. Dozens of kids had gained a chance of a new life. I did not envy them – not one bit. Since then, I missed the action; fighting crime in Paris just was not as exciting as running with _Fusion_.

As I gazed out over my city, I felt a surge of pride in what I was doing. I was a vigilante. I was the front line against what plagued my city. I was La Coccinelle.

 _"La Coccinelle . . . La Coccinelle . . . Are you there?"_

Huh?"

"Sorry, Control, I tuned out for a bit."

 _"You were daydreaming again?"_

"Yes, my friend, I was."

 _"Haven't you got a city to patrol?"_

"On my way . . . hang on . . . I think I may have something. . ."

..._...

La Coccinelle moved along the rooftop and peered into an adjacent alleyway. Something moved down there, several storeys below. It looked like a child and they appeared to be very angry. As La Coccinelle descended the building, she could see that the child was smashing everything within reach. It was also evident, on closer inspection, that the child was a young girl of maybe nine or ten years of age. The girl was definitely angry as she poured a clear liquid onto the wood from a plastic bottle. A box of matches followed.

"Salope!" La Coccinelle exclaimed.

 _"I'm sure there is no need for comments like that!"_ Akuma said in La Coccinelle's earpiece.

"Sorry, Control – I'm currently watching a young girl smash some shit up and set it alight."

"Okay. . ."

La Coccinelle dropped down to the ground and she closed on the obviously upset youngster. As she closed, she saw the youngster brace up – for some reason, La Coccinelle never considered the girl to be a threat; pretty stupid considering the type of kid she had been fighting to free, just a few short months before.

However, La Coccinelle was at the top of her game and she caught the leg as it came up and around, deflecting it back downwards and away from her body. The girl came at the vigilante full force – and she was good . . . very good. La Coccinelle knew that she could not hurt the girl which made defending herself a challenge. Finally, after a particularly hard punch had landed on her armour, she had had enough – but before she could say anything the girl stepped back.

"Merde!" she growled.

"Who are you?" La Coccinelle asked.

"My name is my own."

"You have another name – I am La Coccinelle. . ."

"Those dégénéré crétins never gave me a name," the dejected girl responded as she stared at the ground.

La Coccinelle had a shrewd idea what the girl was talking about as she studied the smouldering flames behind her and she smiled.

"La Terreaur!"

"La Terreaur?"

"Yes – it suits you, somehow."

Instead of the expected smile, the girl pouted.

"I don't deserve a name like that. . ."

"Why not?"

"I am a bad person – Je suis un _Prédateur_!"

La Coccinelle stepped back at that. The poor girl was one of _them_ ; those kids she had helped to rescue back in May. Her heart went out to the young girl.

..._...

"You have a place to stay?"

The way the girl hung her head gave the seasoned vigilante the answer. She had a distinct feeling that she might regret her benevolent actions but she was not about to leave a young girl alone on the streets. On the other hand, her job was to clean up the criminals, not the homeless kids – of which there were many on the streets of Paris, just as there was in any major city. However, La Coccinelle had played a major part in putting that kid on the street.

"Come with me . . . hungry?"

"Oui."

It was time to take a chance – maybe the offering of an olive leaf might help the girl, either that or it would get her and her friend killed. La Coccinelle held out a hand to the girl which after a few seconds hesitation was soon filled by the hand of the young girl.

"Control, I'm coming in – and I have a new friend. . ."

 _"Ta Guele! Are you fucking nuts?"_

"Probably. . ."

There was a lot of muttering from Havre Principal as La Coccinelle led the young girl towards her transport.

"Nique ta mere!" the girl exclaimed much to La Coccinelle's displeasure – the girl had a foul mouth on her.

What had caused the young girl to swear violently? It was the red and black Kawasaki Z1000 R Edition motorcycle which was parked up down another alleyway.

"You hang on tight now," La Coccinelle cautioned as the young girl wrapped her arms around her new mentor's waist.

They sped through the night at high speed, crossing the Seine, and they did not pause until they had left the city centre behind to the east. After braking heavily, La Coccinelle turned the motorcycle off the road and down a darkened street which angled steeply downwards and appeared to be an impasse - but then an opening appeared on the right and the motorcycle was enveloped in total darkness as the opening closed behind the rider and her passenger.

..._...

"Somebody not paid the electric bill?" the young girl quipped.

"Funny. . ." La Coccinelle responded tartly as she snapped her fingers and lights began to snap on all around them.

Ahead of them was a large open space with no windows – very much like a large warehouse. Over to the left were four motorcycles – all powerful, and of differing makes – in identical red and black colour schemes. The central section of the facility was a large glazed in area that was fitted out for martial arts training. To the right of the training area, there was a brick structure which extended floor to ceiling. Each wall held a pair of large vertical windows which were tinted to allow one way vision out. Standing in the doorway which led inside the brick structure was a young, pale-skinned young woman with flowing light-red hair who bore a very disapproving expression on her face.

La Coccinelle parked the motorcycle beside the others and then she dismounted, pulling off her crash helmet and placing it on a rack if similar helmets of varying designs. The young girl followed suit, although she wore no crash helmet. La Coccinelle held out her hand which the girl took and they both headed towards the brick structure with the pouting young woman. Just before they reached her, La Coccinelle stopped and she turned to the young girl, dropping to one knee.

"You about to propose to me?"

"No," La Coccinelle chuckled. "I want to help you – I want you to trust me enough to tell me your name. . ."

"No . . ." Akuma tried to no avail.

La Coccinelle reached up and she pulled off her mask to reveal a young woman. Her hair was black, with pale blue highlights and was tied back in a tight ponytail. Her bluebell eyes were sparkling as she smiled at the youngster.

"My name is Marinette and the pouting girl in the doorway is Alya."

Alya rolled her eyes but she smiled warmly at the girl.

"Hi – what _is_ your name?" Alya asked.

The young girl's shoulders slumped as she came to a decision.

"Je suis Yvette."

Marinette looked up at Alya.

"I promised Yvette some food – what have we got?"

"Not much," Alya replied. "We have some bread and some meat. . ."

Alya laughed as Yvette's eyes went wide.

"Come on – let's feed you while Marinette gets herself changed and sorted out."

Alya led Yvette past the brick structure and towards what was obviously an open-plan kitchen with a large wooden table and six chairs.

"Bread is there – meat is in the fridge. . ."

Yvette was ripping off a chunk of bread almost before Alya had finished the word 'bread'.

..._...

"What the fuck are you doing, Marinette?" Alya demanded as she rounded on her friend in the armoury.

"She's a _Prédateur_ and she has nowhere to live. I couldn't just leave her out on the streets, now, could I?"

"I guess not . . . but I think you might have misunderstood the idea of a 'secret identity'," Alya pointed out resignedly.

"I thought about that, long and hard – maybe not long enough, but I had to come to a decision. I saw the way that those poor kids were forced to learn. I saw that dunking tank in Toulouse. I saw where they were punished. I saw the way that little kids were forced to fight instead of enjoying a normal childhood. Yvette is one of them and I want to help her. If it makes you feel happier, I'll speak to Mindy about her."

"She's a nice enough girl – polite, but after what you told me about them, I assume she could rip my head off and hand it to me."

"And then some," Marinette confirmed. "Let's go check on our trained assassin and see if she's left any food for us."

..._...

Yvette was still eating when Marinette and Alya returned to the kitchen. Her cheeks were bulging and the three-foot loaf had been reduced to mere crumbs on the kitchen side – the meat was all but gone too. Alya was about to comment on the vanished food but then she saw the immense look of pleasure and contentedness on the young girl's face and she relented.

"You doing okay?" Marinette asked.

The response was more of a mumble but it appeared to be in the affirmative. In between bites, Yvette was now yawning enormously.

"You tired?" Alya asked gently.

"Very – I've not slept much in the past few weeks.

"Come on – let's get going; I have a nice bed waiting for you," Marinette commented.

The young girl smiled.

* * *

 ** _Thirty minutes later. . ._**

 ** _Central Paris_**

Marinette was grabbed the moment she closed her front door.

One hand took her by the cheek, another seized her left buttock – and squeezed. Then out of the darkness came a pair of lips which touched her own and she felt her legs go weak beneath her.

"Mon cherie amour," a deep voice purred into her ear.

"Adrien. . ."

"Oui, mon ladybug. . ."

Adrien's left hand moved down Marinette's chest and stomach before settling on her crotch. Marinette moaned as she felt herself swept off her feet and then moments later, she was laid down very gently onto their bed.

"We need to talk. . . mon dieu!"

Adrien's hands had slid beneath her trousers and his fingers were very gently caressing her. . .

"Marinette?"

Adrien's hand froze.

"You brought Alya home with you?"

"Not just Alya. . ."

* * *

 ** _Ten minutes later. . ._**

Adrien looked down at the young girl who just grinned back at him.

"So, we're taking in lodgers now?" Adrien asked of his fiancé.

"Something like that – you said you wanted to help those poor kids I helped in Toulouse. . ."

"This was not quite what I had in mind, mon amour – but I trust you. . . Yvette?"

"Oui monsieur."

"Call me Adrien – follow me and I will show you to your bedroom."

"He's so good with kids," Alya commented as the two young women watched Adrien lead Yvette down the corridor and into a room on the right.

"Bathroom is across the corridor – I'll find you some towels . . . blue, maybe?"

"Oui s'il vous plaît."

..._...

Ten minutes later, after Alya had left, Marinette went to check on the young _Prédateur_ , only to find that Yvette was fast asleep. Her long black hair was just barely visible, protruding from beneath the duvet. Adrien wrapped his arms around Marinette and she absorbed his warmth as she allowed herself to be manoeuvred back to their bedroom.

"Now – where were we. . ." Adrien breathed into Marinette's ear.

"Your fingers were somewhere around my . . . but we can't."

Adrien sat down on the bed, pulling Marinette with him.

"Shame – anyway, what are you going do with her?"

"Not sure – but I know somebody who does. What time is it?"

"A little after 2 am."

"So, that would make it a little after 7 pm, in Chicago. Let me make a quick call."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Thursday, August 11th_**

"Bonjour, Yvette!"

"Bonjour, Marinette."

"Tired?"

"A little – I've been sleeping rough for a long time."

"Ready for breakfast?"

That perked up the young girl as Marinette placed a pile of fresh croissants from the boulangerie on the table along with copious amounts of café au lait. Yvette dug in with barely concealed gusto.

"Has our lodger left anything for me?" Adrien asked as he sat down beside the diminutive Yvette.

"Some," Marinette commented. "But, I'd dig in fast before she cleans us out completely."

Thirty minutes, later, Yvette sat back and groaned.

"That was really good. Thanks, Marinette. May I go for a shower, please?"

"Go – you have towels?"

"Oui mademoiselle."

..._...

"You're all still alive, I see," Alya commented as she looked at her friends. "Where is the little assassin?"

"In the shower," Adrien laughed. "You got the items?"

"Of course," Alya replied and she sounded a little offended.

"You never fail, Alya."

Alya gave Adrien a withering look as she handed several bags to Marinette before heading back out the door.

"While you care for your wayward assassin, I'm off to keep Paris safe," Alya said tartly.

"She doesn't approve of Yvette, does she?" Adrien muttered rhetorically.

Marinette headed off to find the young girl in question.

..._...

Yvette stepped out of the shower feeling a lot more human than she had twelve hours before. She felt like a different girl. She returned to her bedroom to find Marinette emptying out half a dozen bags of clothing.

"You look a lot better – smell better, too," Marinette commented. "I have some new clothes for you – I hope Alya picked out the right sizes. Underwear, trousers, socks, blouses, T-shirts – take your pick. Some trainers and some pixie boots."

Yvette beamed at the selection as it was laid out before her. The dirty clothing had been dumped in a pile beside the bed.

"I'll bin those old things," Marinette suggested as she saw Yvette cast a glance at them.

"Good – a part of me, I don't mind losing," Yvette commented.

..._...

Once Yvette was dressed, Marinette sat down opposite her on a couch, with Adrien beside her.

"You have a nom de famille?"

"Dubois, Yvette Dubois. Ma famille est morte – J'ai tiré sur ma mère. J'ai tiré sur mon père. J'ai tiré sur ma petite soeur."

Yvette and Adrien just looked at one another. They were both very aware of the processes used to brain wash the _Prédateurs_ , but for Yvette to just come straight out with it. . .

"I thought that they didn't remember that event?" Adrien commented.

"So did I," Marinette replied.

"I am ten-years-old – just last week, in fact. I was taken as a _Prédateur_ when I was seven-years-old. Just last month, I started to remember things – bad things. Things that left me angry and upset. Things that made me wish I was dead. I've done bad things – very bad things."

Yvette began to cry as she pulled her feet up onto the couch and hugged her knees close to her chest.

"You're going to throw me out onto the streets know you know what I am and what I have done."

"Never going to happen, ma chérie. We know what a _Prédateur_ is and we do not blame you for what you became. I had the honour of being part of the team which destroyed that heinous organisation in Toulouse a few months back," Marinette explained. "There will always be a place for you here, for as long as you want, Yvette."

Adrien nodded.

Yvette began to cry again, but for a very different reason.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

Marinette answered the knock on the door and found herself face to face with a tall blonde woman.

"Bonne après-midi! Je suis Brooke. Mindy m'a envoyé pour voir s'il y avait quelque chose dont vous aviez besoin."

"Qui?" Marinette replied.

"Mindy sent me – do I really have to say the code phrase; so humiliating!"

Marinette just stood there.

"Okay – 'it's biology bitch' – happy?"

Marinette laughed as she waved the young woman inside.

"Mindy said you might come by – I understand you have a house in Paris?"

"My parents have an apartment on Avenue Marceau," Brooke replied. "We spend the summer here, in Paris."

"Cool – why that phrase?"

"A long story that I'd rather not go into, thank you very much – Mindy's attempt at humour. Okay. Mindy sent me to see if there was anything you needed for your new – what _is_ a Predator?"

"Je suis un _Prédateur_!" Yvette commented as she came up behind Brooke.

"She looks so sweet," Brooke sighed. "But I hear she's a chip off the old Hit Girl block."


	15. Childhood

**_Wednesday, August 17th, 2016_**

 ** _Falkirk, Scotland  
Southfield Letham_**

"This will _not_ do," Natasha commented.

"What?" Naomi muttered in response.

"You three little girls, sitting there complaining how hot it is – don't you have any dresses?"

"What do you think we are?" Kaitlin retorted.

"Girls – or are you really boys?" Natasha laughed.

"Do you want a fat lip?" Harper offered.

"Look, I don't care what you three were taught in that _Predator Academy_ thing, but biologically, all three of you are female and I think it is high time that you three started acting like what you are. Me and my brother, we put on our masks and we become different people. We were taught to maim and to kill – we do it very well, I think. But when the masks are removed, we go back to our normal lives – I go out and get pissed with my friends and humiliate myself when I come home afterwards. I see no reason why you three can't enjoy being what you were born – girls.

"Kaitlin – you love that pony, don't you. That wasn't part of what you were trained to be, but you are embracing some of what you missed during your time as a _Predator_. Why not go the whole way – be a _Predator_ when you each wear the mask as Glide or Prowl or Polaris, by all means, but when you are just being yourselves, be yourselves, be what you are. Don't feel that you must be _Predators_ twenty-four-seven. Enjoy being little girls before you really do grow up and you look back to regret what you missed."

"She has a point," Kaitlin conceded.

"Okay," Harper said. "Do your worst, Nats."

..._...

Two hours later, Harper was very much regretting her choice of words.

"I look like a fucking sissy!" she groused.

Natasha laughed as the three girls each appeared out of the bedroom which they were sharing.

"I hate to admit it, but I feel a lot cooler," Kaitlin admitted, her tone very reluctant.

"Yeah – you look good, too," Naomi offered in a rare display of complimentary behaviour towards her younger cousin.

All three girls wore knee-length, one-piece summer dresses of a similar design, but in differing colours. Harper wore a light blue, Naomi, a pale green, and Kaitlin, a pale yellow. On their feet, they each wore matching open sandals. As for their long hair, each had chosen different options: Kaitlin had gone for a pair of girly pigtails, Naomi a more mature looking ponytail, while Harper had gone for the full braids that kept her long hair well away from her neck.

"You all look perfect!" Natasha commented as she gave a twirl of her own, freshly purchased, summer dress in pure white. "Cassie and Keira will be _so_ surprised."

"I feel like a sissy," Harper reaffirmed.

"You look like one!" Naomi agreed.

"Thanks, I love you too, Naomi," Harper growled in return.

* * *

 ** _The Helix_**

"The dresses were a shrewd idea, Nats."

"Thanks, Cam – I am determined for those three little girls to have a childhood, no matter how abbreviated it may be."

Cameron smiled as he watched the three girls running after one another in the blazing sun. All three girls had complained bitterly as Cameron and Natasha had slapped lashings of factor 50 suntan lotion onto all the exposed skin to protect them. Now, though, their laughing and giggling could be heard from several dozen yards away as they intermingled with dozens of other kids of all ages, both boys and girls.

"They seem to be having fun and they haven't killed each other yet – even better, they haven't killed anybody else!" Cameron chuckled.

"Give them time. . ." Natasha mused as she took a bite out of her ice-cream.

..._...

"Wow, you are boiling, Kaitlin!" Cameron commented as the red-faced girl ran up, sweat pouring down her face.

"This place is brilliant – thanks for bringing us here."

"No problem, Kaitlin. Please get something to drink before you go back out," Cameron insisted.

Kaitlin grabbed the offered bottle of water and she downed about half a litre.

"Thanks, Cam!"

Before the three girls had an accident – Kaitlin had already cut her left knee and burnt her left thigh while climbing a rope – they headed off in search of some food to take home.

The general consensus was for pizza, so Cameron collected a _massive_ order from Pizza Hut and they headed home.

* * *

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

It was good to see the girls giggling over pizza, rather than fighting over it. Naomi managed to get something tomato coloured all over her dress, which was no surprise.

"Surprised you can miss that mouth," Cameron commented.

"You want me to cut your nuts off?" Naomi retorted with a grin.

"What with, your sharp wit?"

"Well, yours are dull as fuck!"

The verbal sparring continued into the night and became more and more obscene and vulgar – Cameron was very impressed with Harper's knowledge of obscene vocabulary.

..._...

Natasha was feeling tired; it had been a long day – but a fun day.

After finishing in the kitchen, she returned to the ominously quiet living room – a quiet _Predator_ , she had learnt, was often being a naughty _Predator_! However, she smiled on entering the living room and taking in the scene on the sofa. All three girls were fast asleep – worn out by the day's activities.

"They actually look sweet – deadly, but sweet," Cameron commented.

With immense care, all three girls were transported up the stairs by Cameron and then undressed and slid into bed by Natasha. The three girls were far too tired to even _try_ to resist.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Thursday, August 18th _**

"Wakey, wakey, girls!"

Harper's eyes opened and she glared at the smiling face of Cameron.

"Can't a lady get some rest?"

"You are not a lady, Harper, not by a long shot!" Cameron retorted.

"I can agree with that," Kaitlin muttered as she threw back the duvet and stretched.

"No one asked you!" Harper growled in response.

"Can't you two shut the fuck up?" Naomi moaned as she buried her face in her pillow.

"Breakfast is ready, so be quick, if you want it hot."

..._...

Breakfast was an enormous pile of bacon, sausages, fried eggs, black pudding and plum tomatoes. One thing that the girls did enjoy, was a big breakfast; they each knew the value of a good nutritious start to the day.

"The more energy I have, the more mischief I can achieve," Kaitlin had commented one morning.

Cameron had suggested that they just feed the eight-year-old bread and water, in response. Breakfast took a little over an hour as none of the girls could stop talking. But, when breakfast was over and the girls had helped to clear the table and tidy up, Natasha handed each of the girls, some new clothes.

Harper examined the clothing: blue shorts, a plain light-blue T-shirt, blue trainers and white trainer socks, plus a pair of pink knickers.

"Is this more of that 'let them have a childhood' crap?" Harper asked.

"Sorry. . ." Natasha began.

"Don't be – I'm really enjoying it. Naomi and me, we've forgotten so much about being little girls. I know we both take the piss out of Kaitlin with her Twilight Sparkle, but in all reality, I think we're both jealous of her."

"Jealous of _me_?" Kaitlin looked up from her own pile of clothing: pink shorts, a pink My Little Pony T-shirt, pink My Little Pony trainers with white trainer socks, and a pair of pink My Little Pony knickers.

"You've been able to play, have fun, laugh, be a little girl. We've both talked about watching you have fun when we don't remember how to. What Natasha and Cameron are doing for us, is amazing. I hated wearing this dress, at first, and so did Naomi – but now we realise that we are what we are. We were born female, so, irrelevant of what happened to us when we were taken to take part in some sordid CIA bastard's wet dream, we should stand by what we are – we are girls, and we always will be," Harper explained.

"Woah, Harper – that was one hell of a speech!" Natasha complimented.

"Wet dream?" Cameron inquired.

"It seemed to fit," Harper muttered as her face turned red.

"I never knew that," Kaitlin said. "I never wanted to upset Naomi and . . ."

"Kaitlin, honey, you've done nothing wrong," Natasha tried to explain. "Harper and Naomi are older than you; they've missed out on much more of their childhoods than you have. They can never get that time back. Understand?"

"A little."

"Let's go get changed," Naomi suggested as she cradled her own clothing: yellow shorts, a plain yellow T-shirt, yellow trainers and white trainer socks, plus a pair of pink knickers.

* * *

 ** _Two hours later_**

 ** _Central Glasgow_**

As expected, the three girls were very excited at being out in the sun again.

As usual, the City of Glasgow was very busy. The train ride in had been crowded but surprisingly, three little girls had behaved, thus making the thirty-minute journey tolerable. Everybody liked to walk, so they forwent a taxi and walked through George Square and headed for the River Clyde.

Despite their training as high-end assassins, their road sense was atrocious. Natasha resorted to holding Naomi and Kaitlin by the hands as they walked, not that the girls minded. Cameron had custody of Harper and the two of them were exchanging appalling jokes which were, as usual, trending towards the extremely crude.

Kaitlin's eyes were wide as she took in everything around her. The past few months of her life had been spent inside a concrete building. Having the chance to enjoy the fresh air (well, Glasgow air), was refreshing.

..._...

After a trip around the Science Museum, followed by lunch, they all took a walk down beside the river. Harper and Naomi took the opportunity to wind up their younger companion, seizing the young girl by the arms and feet.

"What you two doing?" Kaitlin demanded.

"Fancy going for a swim?" Harper asked the younger girl as she dangled between them.

"You want me to slit your throat?" Kaitlin responded as she struggled.

"You could try, but I can handle a little munchkin like you."

"I may have only been a Phase 1, but I've taken down bigger bitches than you, Harpy."

Harper laughed as she and Naomi began to swing the girl, aiming for the river.

"Put her down," Natasha suggested.

"She can swim. . ."

"How many laps of the paddock can you two do in two hours?" Cameron asked.

Harper and Naomi released Kaitlin – well dropped her. Kaitlin stalked off, muttering vile obscenities under her breath. The group continued their walk down the river for another half mile before they stopped at a park and sat down for a breather.

"Where's Kaitlin?" Natasha asked.

"Probably sulking somewhere," Naomi suggested with an evil grin.

..._...

Kaitlin was lost.

After her threatened dunking, she had been very angry at her treatment and as a result she had wandered off the path to calm down. By the time her head had cooled, she found herself surrounded by industrial and commercial units. As she tried to find her way out, she found her path blocked by three young men.

The first teen ran his eyes over the eight-year-old and Kaitlin felt like she was being X-rayed. She shivered slightly and cringed as the man paused at her crotch.

"We could have a use for you, little one. You lost?"

"Nah – just heading back to my family – you guys have a good one."

"What are you, eight, nine?"

"Eight."

"Bet you've got a nice tight virgin cooch," another commented. "That pale skin'll photo beautiful once we get those clothes off o' yer."

"Bit skinny," the third added.

Kaitlin decided the conversation was getting freaky and enough was enough.

"You touch me – I fucking kill each one of you," Kaitlin growled as she glared up the three teenaged youths.

They each laughed out loud at the incredulity of the statement issued by a little girl a few inches over four-feet in height and weighing a little over four stone in weight.

..._...

Three minutes later, Kaitlin stood breathing heavily, blood dripping from her nose. She was the only one left standing.

"Dumb fucks!" she growled as she headed down a small alleyway.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she finally found herself back at the river. She headed in the correct direction and she smiled as she caught sight of Harper hanging upside down from a climbing frame.

"Hi, pipsqueak!" Cameron said in greeting "Where. . .?"

"Is that blood?" Natasha interrupted.

"I _may_ have got into a little fight."

Harper regained her feet and joined Naomi.

"You're standing funny," Harper commented.

Naomi pulled up Kaitlin's T-shirt and turned Kaitlin so that Cameron and Natasha could see the vicious bruise on the girl's left side.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Natasha demanded.

"Just a few bruises."

"Why?" Naomi wanted to know.

"They wanted to take naked photos of me and do weird things to me."

Cameron and Natasha exchanged dark looks, as did Harper and Naomi.

"Are they still breathing?" Cameron asked darkly.

"Never stopped to check," Naomi growled. "Can we go home now . . . please?"

"Let's go, sweetie," Natasha said as she put an arm around the young girl.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

"You okay, Kaitlin?" Naomi asked as she sat down on the bed next to her cousin.

"Not really."

"Did they scare you?" Harper asked, her face full of compassion for the younger girl.

"The men didn't scare me. I was scared of what they said to me – they talked about taking my clothes off and taking photos of me naked. Even while I was fighting them, they talked about what they could do to me when they stripped me – that scared me even more. That was why I killed them and that scared me to."

"You've killed before. . ." Harper said without thinking.

Kaitlin scowled and tears ran down her cheeks.

"I know – this was different . . . somehow. I know I killed people when I was indoctrinated, but today, I was just so angry and scared of what they might do to me that I lost control. I never wanted to kill again – not anymore."

"We're with you, Kaitlin – always."

"Thanks, guys."

* * *

 ** _The next morning  
Friday, August 19th_**

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

It had been a long flight, crossing the Atlantic, and the two women were tired.

Nonetheless, they were very keen to get reacquainted with those they had left behind. Cassie had missed her two girls, hugely and Keira was desperate to see Harper. Eric had headed back home, directly from the airport, leaving the two young women to head towards Falkirk.

"Well, the house is still standing," Keira commented dryly.

"True," Cassie replied.

As they pulled into the drive and stopped, the door burst open and three children ran out of the house. Cassie and Keira climbed out of the car and stared at the three little girls, each wearing a summer dress.

"Oh, wow!" Keira muttered as she studied Harper. "Who are you and what have you done with my little sister?"

"Likewise," Cassie added. "What have you done with the two crazy cousins?"

All three girls were actually blushing, but only for a moment as they ran forwards and hugged their respective guardian. Both Keira and Cassie looked at each other and then over at a grinning Natasha.

"Cam and I decided that as those three are female, they should start acting more like little girls, than they do. The dresses helped to keep them cool and I think they actually like them – we bout them three each. They've also got another couple of new outfits each, too."

"Thanks, Nats – how much do we owe you?" Cassie asked.

"You give me so much as five pence and I'll kick your cute little arse all the way to fucking Glasgow," Natasha replied sweetly. "Cam and I have had a great time looking after these three little menaces."

The three girls turned to Natasha and Cameron, wrapping their arms around each in turn and hugging them both.

"Thanks for everything," Harper said. "Being normal for just a few days made a huge difference and I'm enjoying wearing a dress instead of jeans."

Harper then turned to her big sister, giving her a twirl.

"So, what do you think, sis?"

"Just like a bigger version of the little girl I remember," Keira said with a smile and tears in her eyes.

Harper grinned.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle House_**

Cassie was very pleased to be home again.

She had given her mother an enormous hug. That hug had been followed up by hugs from the two girls who had also missed Alexandra.

"Did you miss us?" Naomi asked.

"Like a hole in the head!" Alexandra laughed and Kaitlin scowled. "Peace and tranquillity – reminds of when Cassie used to go off to University."

"Thanks, Mum!"

..._...

Sometime later, Cassie headed out behind the house for some sun. After walking towards the paddock, she heard sobbing and was very startled to find Kaitlin huddled under a tree, tears running down her face.

"What's wrong, Kaitlin?"

Kaitlin jumped up and she wrapped her arms tightly around Cassie's waist. Cassie disentangled herself and sat down beneath the same tree, pulling Kaitlin down beside her.

"Tell me what happened?"

"I got lost, in Glasgow, three men accosted me and they threatened to take naked photos of me and force me to do sexual things for them – I killed them."

Cassie was startled. She knew that Kaitlin had skills and she knew that Kaitlin had killed her parents, but she had never seen the girl as a killer.

"Killing them was easy – too easy; I never wanted to kill again. But what they said they would do to me . . . if I hadn't had my skills . . . if it had been another little girl. . ."

"Life is full if 'ifs', Kaitlin. You did well – those men deserved to die. You made sure that those three bastards would never be able to hurt any other child. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Cassie."


	16. Waif

**_Tuesday, August 23rd, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle  
Scotland, United Kingdom_**

"If anybody dares. . ."

"Yes, Kaitlin?" Alexandra asked pointedly.

"You do look sweet, Kaitlin – just enjoy it," Cassie offered.

"Yuck!" the eight-year-old growled.

"You are starting Primary 5, young lady, so a new uniform is required and I think the kilt looks perfect on you."

"I preferred the pinafore."

"Give it a break, Kaitlin," Naomi suggested. "You're just grumpy 'cause Harper isn't here."

Kaitlin nodded.

"I miss her."

"You'll both see her at the weekend. She is starting her new school today," Alexandra cautioned.

"Okay – I'm ready," Kaitlin said as Naomi checked that her cousin's hair was up in her customary pigtails.

"Let's go!" Cassie announced, pushing the two girls towards the car.

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Thursday, August 25th  
That afternoon_**

 ** _Edinburgh Airport_**

"Is she here yet?"

"Do you see her, you bloody idiot?" Naomi growled back.

"Bitchy!" Kaitlin retorted.

"Will you two shut the fuck up!" Harper suggested.

"I am going to smack all your heads together if you three don't shut it!" Cassie growled angrily.

The three girls clammed up and looked skyward.

..._...

The sleek light-grey executive jet taxied towards them before turning in and stopping a few metres short of the hanger.

The engines of the Gulfstream 650ER jet wound down and the forward hatch on the port side opened, deploying the air stairs. Once deployed, the girl descended the stairs from the jet and she took a deep breath before she set foot onto solid ground.

"Finally, I'm back home again!"

"Stephanie!"

The three girls ran forwards and they almost flattened the ten-year-old.

"Careful, you little rats – I'm still recuperating," Stephanie warned as she protected her right arm which hung across her front on a wrist sling. The three girls eased off their welcome and gave Stephanie her space.

". . . aaaand the God complex is back . . . now that the she-bitch has her worshippers . . ."

"Go fuck yourself, SD!" Stephanie growled as her friend followed her down the stairs.

Saoirse looked over the faces before her and she cringed. They worshipped Stephanie, there was no other word for it.

"Electra!" SD called and the young girl appeared at the top of the steps.

"Creepy – it's the only word for it," the young girl commented as she joined SD on the tarmac.

"Thanks, 'lectra," Stephanie commented sourly.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"It is very good to see you again, Stephanie," Jasper said, holding out his hand.

"You, too, sir," Stephanie replied uneasily.

"Stephanie, Saoirse, I have something for the both of you."

The two friends exchanged glances, but they each sat down on a sofa as Jasper sat down in a chair.

"Considering that you two are now working on behalf of HMG, we have decided to equip you accordingly."

Jasper placed two identity cards on the glass-topped table.

"Oh, wow!" Saoirse commented as she examined the two Security Service identity cards. "You actually look pretty hot in your photo, Steph."

"Thanks!" Stephanie growled as her face turned pink. She picked up her own ID and examined it closely. "Why does my ID number end in '666'? You trying to say something?"

"Do I need to?" Jasper countered.

"You're the devil, Stephanie," Saoirse laughed.

"I am, aren't I?" Stephanie said as she pocketed her card. "Thank you."

* * *

 ** _Later that afternoon. . ._**

Everything Stephanie did, the three girls just fawned over her. They did everything for her, including running to fetch a can of Coke or a packet of salt & vinegar crisps.

"I really don't know how you put up with all the hero worship," Saoirse commented.

"It's a gift, what can I say?"

"You're just lapping it up, aren't you?"

Stephanie's expression said it all.

..._...

Dinner that evening was . . . well, Cassie was struggling to find a suitable word . . . maybe 'riot' would be a good choice, she thought dryly.

Cassie and her mother had discussed options for feeding six _Predators_ without destroying the house, and a barbecue had therefore seemed the optimum choice. Cassie began to have second thoughts as the giggling Harper and Stephanie began to poke at the red-hot coals.

"Scram, you little pests!" Alexandra ordered and both girls ran off, laughing.

Despite her superior age, fifteen-year-old Saoirse was letting out her inner _Predator_ and she joined in some of the more extreme 'games' which included fighting with kitchen knives and popping Mentos mints into bottles of Coke and watching said bottles explode all over each other.

"You look to be enjoying yourself, Saoirse."

"Yes, Mrs Perrin – sorry if I'm being a pain. Yes, I'm fifteen, but this just feels good, behaving like an imbecile."

"You enjoy yourself, honey."

Alexandra laughed as the teenager ran off in the direction of Electra and Kaitlin – the two younger girls were throwing sections of barbecued sausage into each other's mouths. Typically, for Kaitlin, she had thought it a good idea to first dip the sausage sections in ketchup – oh well, she thought, kids wash!

Considering their history, Cassie was pleased to see the six girls having fun on that sunny evening. It had only been a few months previously that Stephanie and Saoirse had begun an operation in Scotland that had ultimately resulted in Harper, Naomi, Kaitlin, and Electra being released from their enforced training regime.

Cassie could not consider life without her two girls – they were very much a part of her daily life now.

..._...

Cleaning up after the barbecue had been epic, too.

Not surprisingly, two bathrooms had seen an awful lot of water as the six _Predators_ had cleaned themselves up. Cassie had come running up the stairs after hearing a very loud and very high-pitched scream. Cassie had appeared on the landing to find a naked Stephanie and Harper running away from an equally naked Saoirse who was yelling bloody murder as she ran. All three skidded to a halt before Cassie. Saoirse quickly covered herself up and she looked very embarrassed.

"Those two little bitches threw freezing cold water over me when I was in the shower and then turned the shower to cold!" Saoirse growled angrily.

"Yeah – I figured that; your nipples were sticking out a mile!" Cassie laughed.

Harper and Stephanie giggled as Saoirse went bright red and she ran into the bedroom she was sharing with Stephanie and Electra. The other three girls, all grinning and all just as naked, peered out of another bedroom door.

Cassie just rolled her eyes and heading back down the stairs.

..._...

That night, Electra sat on Stephanie's bed, glaring at her mentor.

"You are coming back?"

"Yes, 'lectra, SD and me; we are just nipping to check on another _Predator_."

"Can I come?"

Stephanie groaned.

"Okay!" Stephanie exclaimed as she gave in. "Those three nutcases do everything I tell them, but you, 'lectra, you do the complete damn opposite!"

"It's a gift, what can I say!" Electra grinned and Saoirse laughed from the other side of the room.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Friday, August 26th_**

 ** _Paris, France_**

Stephanie stretched as the aircraft came to a halt beside the hanger at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport.

"You coming with us?" SD enquired of her slovenly friend.

"The last time we were both in this country. . ."

"I know – but that was then, and this is now."

"Okay, let's see what reprobate they've scraped off the streets now."

"Can't be any worse than you, Steph!" Electra grinned.

"She has a point," Saoirse laughed.

"We shall see, my Irish friend," Stephanie replied as she ignored Electra completely.

..._...

Awaiting them, they found a tall man with messy brown hair, leaning against a large Citroen.

"Good morning, my friends, I am Adrien."

"And to you, Adrien. I am Saoirse and this is my friend Stephanie, and her friend, Electra."

"You are all. . ."

" _Predators_? Yes," replied Stephanie. "Good to meet you, Adrien."

"Likewise," Electra added.

"Let's make a move, Marinette is looking forward to meeting you all – again, for you two, at any rate."

"You English is very good, Adrien," Electra pointed out.

Adrien laughed.

"Thank you. I spent a couple of years living in Southampton where I attended university," he explained.

* * *

The house was large and very impressive.

Stephanie, Saoirse, and Electra were led from the car up some steps to a set of large wooden doors. One of the doors flew open before Adrien could touch it and Marinette smiled down on her three British visitors.

"Welcome, mon ami!"

"Hi, Marinette," Stephanie offered.

"Ah, young Stephanie – taller than when I last saw you. Saoirse – you are getting more beautiful as the months roll by."

The two girls blushed at the compliments. Stephanie pushed Electra forwards and introduced her.

"This is Electra, another one."

"Pleased to meet you, Electra," Marinette said as she shook hands with the young girl. "This way, please."

Marinette led them into a large living room with a very high ceiling.

"This is. . ."

"Yvette!"

Stephanie was speechless for a moment as she laid eyes on Yvette for the first time in many, many months.

Yvette was just the same and it was almost two full minutes before Yvette burst into tears and she hugged Stephanie – not too tightly due to her arm. The two friends just hugged and then went back to staring at one another.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Yvette said.

"I never thought I'd live this long," Stephanie replied, wiping away her tears.

"So, you two know each other?" Marinette asked.

"From way back," Stephanie replied. "We provided support for each other, back when we were _Predators_. Me, Jasmine, Ruth, Maxine, and Yvette. _They_ called themselves the _Psyche Crew_!"

"Oh, God . . . _Psyche Crew_?" Saoirse said dryly.

"Hey – somebody as important as me needs her entourage," Stephanie replied with a grin.

"What's with the arm?" Yvette asked.

"Sniper," Stephanie replied simply.

"Doesn't surprise me really. . ."

"Why?" Stephanie demanded.

"You just can't keep out of trouble, can you girl? Well, I suppose that was our job."

"You did keep me alive. . ." Stephanie admitted.

"Hey," Yvette commented distractedly as she moved to check out her friend from the side. "You getting boobs?"

"Why does everybody have a fascination with my physical development – yes, I have boobs . . . well, kind of. . ."

"Cool!" Yvette commented.

"Believe me, there's not a great deal there," Electra deadpanned.

Yvette and Electra giggled while Saoirse did her utmost not to laugh. Stephanie just seethed.

..._...

Yvette next hugged Electra.

"It's good to see that you are still alive, 'lectra."

"Stephanie taught me well. Without those skills. . ."

"Yeah – she's a good teacher," Yvette admitted as Stephanie looked embarrassed.

Stephanie noticed that Yvette had pointedly ignored Saoirse, despite them both knowing each other very well.

"Yvette, you remember Saoirse."

Her expression was glacial as Yvette looked up at the teenager.

"Yes, I remember the bitch!"

Saoirse looked very downcast and Stephanie felt sorry for her friend, and angry with Yvette – Electra too; she was tolerant of Saoirse, but she refused to enter into conversation with her.

"Enough!" Stephanie growled angrily as she turned to the two younger girls.

Both girls flinched – they both knew exactly what Stephanie was capable of when she was angry.

"Saoirse is my friend! We all did terrible things. We were all encouraged to treat our fellow _Predators_ like crap. When I first came across Saoirse, I needed her; I had nobody else who could relate to my situation. Since she came over to our side, she also discovered that she needed me to help her transition from psycho-assassin, to normal school-girl.

"I'm sure that you two remember how far I go to get my own way. . . I see that you do – now, this will end, you will both make friends with Saoirse. I'm not saying you have to make love to her; she'd like that, but I just want you to stop ignoring each other and fucking talk – or do I have to bang your thick skulls together?"

Yvette exchanged glances with Electra and she took a deep breath as she turned to Saoirse.

"Hi, Saoirse. I'm, Electra. I'm sorry for being a bitch and I want you to be my friend."

Electra held out her hand and Saoirse took it.

"Thank you, Electra."

"I'm sorry for ignoring you, Saoirse. As usual, Stephanie has a point. We all did crappy things, back then, which we had no control over. Friends?"

"Yes, Yvette, we are friends."

"Okay, now the sappy shit is over, let's get down to business!" Stephanie growled as she shoved all three girls down onto a sofa. "My apologies, Marinette, Adrien – I just had to get that off my chest."

"Yeah," Electra quipped. "Steph needs to make room for her new boobs."

* * *

 ** _Scotland, United Kingdom_**

Craig Montgomery had been brought up to respect life and his fellow human beings.

Up until a week before his eighth birthday, the boy was a model child. He was doing well at school, he had good friends, he rarely got into trouble and _never_ anything serious. In return, his parents gave him a happy family life and he wanted for nothing. His father, David, was away a lot, at sea with the Royal Navy. As such, he mainly lived with his mother, Amy, but when his father was home, he was the happiest boy on the planet.

Then, during mid-October 2011, everything changed. Craig went missing, along with his aunt and uncle with whom he had been staying for a few days. None of them were seen again despite extensive searching and inquiries by the Police. David and Amy Montgomery had been devastated at losing their only son. Despite them holding out hope, life went on for the Montgomery's and time passed.

Four and a half years later, a knock on the door one sunny Wednesday in May 2016, had led to a family reunion.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon  
Friday, August 26th_**

 ** _Bridge of Allan, Stirling_**

When Craig had returned home, he had been twelve-years-old, and very different to the little boy who had gone missing as an eight-year-old. Now, three months later, the boy was almost a teenager and his parents were struggling with the boy's antics. A faceless government bureaucrat had made a half-hearted effort to explain what the boy had been doing over the previous four or so years, but Craig's parents had had major difficulty understanding any of it; so much had been thrown at them.

Their son was alive. Their son was an assassin. Their son was a killer.

Craig was just as lost.

For almost five years, he had known but one life. A life of hardship and pain. A life of being told what to do, each and every minute. Being back in what was only just beginning to feel like familiar surroundings was tremendously difficult. He had forgotten about a life of ease and not having to fight to survive. He had forgotten about a life where somebody actually cared about his wellbeing rather than how well he could kill.

..._...

The doorbell rang a little after noon and when Amy Montgomery went to answer the door, she found a tall handsome man standing there.

"Good morning, ma'am. You must be Mrs Montgomery. I am Commander Craig Lawrence and I am here about your son, err Craig."

"He's at school, Commander," Amy explained.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs Montgomery; he's in the car, outside."

* * *

 ** _Two hours earlier_**

 ** _Falkirk Police Station_**

Craig was not a happy boy.

He had just been nicked!

Right at that moment in his short but troubled life, the twelve-year-old was handcuffed to the steel table which was securely bolted to the floor of the rather small interrogation room. He looked up lazily as the door opened and somebody walked in closing the door behind them. He focused on the person and then his eyes went wide as he took in the most beautiful young woman that he had ever seen. Something about her was familiar but he could not quite place it.

The young woman sat down across from him and she just stared at him for a minute or two.

"Who are you?" he demanded insolently, in an attempt to get the upper hand in the interrogation.

"Call me your only bloody chance of getting out of here a free man."

The Irish accent was strong.

"Fuck off!"

Without changing her expression, the woman placed the tablet which she had been carrying onto the table top and she slowly walked around to his side of the table. Without warning, she smacked his head down onto the metal table top – not hard enough to harm but hard enough for him to take notice.

"Fuck me around, boy, and you're off to Polmont Young Offenders for the next six fucking years."

The tone was menacing and it scared the boy.

"Now," the woman said calmly as she sat back down and picked up her tablet. "Craig Montgomery, born 18th October 2003. Parents: David and Amy. Taken by the sinister dark forces of the Central Intelligence Agency, 15th October 2011. Indoctrinated into the _Urban Predator_ program. Completed Phase 1 by the skin of your teeth, and moved onto a rather lacklustre performance in Phase 2. I have no idea _how_ you moved onto Phase 3!"

Craig was stunned. The woman knew _everything_ about him. How was that possible?

"What a fucked-up codename: _Stripe_ – I ask you! From what I see you should never have completed Phase 1, let alone Phase 2. You did well in Fight Club, during your third year. I always enjoyed those fights – hurt like the bugger afterwards, but that was life. No – you're not what I'm looking for; it's Polmont for you, boy."

With that, the woman stood up and she turned for the door. Craig realised he did not have all that many options available to him – actually, on second thoughts, he had none.

"I can change," he blurted out and the woman stopped. "I'm really good; I _earned_ my codename and if you are what I think you are, then you know that."

She turned and she smiled. The smile worried him but he filed that thought worry away for another time.

"Who are you?"

"They call me Foxtail."

The woman vanished out the door.

* * *

Minutes later, two uniformed Police officers entered the room and they proceeded to unlock the boy from the table.

"What's happening?" he demanded to closed ears.

Craig was worried. He did not want to go to prison. He just wanted to go home. Once unlocked, the handcuffs were removed, much to Craig's surprise, and he was escorted to the front door of the Police Station.

The two Police officers left him standing before a tall man and the smirking Irish girl.

* * *

 ** _Bridge of Allan, Stirling_**

"I'm afraid that your son was not at school; we picked him up from Falkirk Police Station, just over half an hour ago. He is in our custody, at least for now. We would like to take the boy for an, err an interview, if you like. It may prove beneficial to him, not to mention to both you and your husband."

"Is he in a lot of trouble?"

"Yes, he is. He verbally abused a Police officer and he resisted arrest – quite violently, I understand. We'll return him this evening – more or less in one piece, and then we'll explain everything."

"He's a good lad. I don't know what really happened to the boy, but I just want my son back and whatever it takes, I'll go along with it – David will too."

..._...

"Where are we going?" Craig asked as Commander Lawrence climbed back into the car.

"Hell!" The Irish girl responded with a decidedly disturbing laugh.

The car moved off and headed west. Twenty minutes later, the tall man stopped the dark blue BMW X5 beside a large barn-type building.

"Out!" he ordered and Craig did so.

* * *

"Follow me!" The Irish girl directed, and he was led into the building which appeared to be some sort of office building by the looks of the plush reception area. "In here . . ."

Craig followed the girl through a heavy steel door which led into a concrete-blocked area before they passed through another steel door, offset to the right of the first one. His mind said, 'kill zone' but his senses had been dulled after several months of inactivity and he missed all the tell tales. As the steel door closed silently behind him, he had mere seconds to take in what appeared to be a large open area over several storeys with mezzanine floors above and below him.

Just before the lights went out, the boy caught sight of a training mat and some gym equipment. Then he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and he was thrown over a railing and down onto what felt like a soft crash mat.

"What the bloody . . ."

..._...

A strobe light broke through the darkness and Craig braced up. He had no idea what was going on but there was no way that it could be anything good. He put his attention onto his peripheral vision to avoid the strobe lighting which was beginning to disorient him. He caught sight of something crimson just as he was kicked backwards, then a gloved hand took a hold of his face and shoved him bodily against a wall.

"Get out of this, you little fuck!"

The voice was electronically enhanced and it freaked Craig out. His mind was racing as he tried to process everything that was going on around him and come up with a plan of action. Those months of inactivity vanished in a flash as his training came back in a rush of anger. He executed a perfect release from the hand which gripped his face and he kicked out at his assailant. His kick was blocked but a quick feint and he struck the crimson clad individual in the chest.

As the attacker fell backwards, he dove forwards and seized the pistol which he recognised as an FN Five-seveN, from its holster. He flicked off the safety and fired off three rounds into his attacker's chest. Quickly, he turned but he received an armoured fist to his own chest. He fell backwards and fired off six more rounds before the pistol was kicked out of his hands and he was thrown across the mat to land in a heap.

A hand reached down to help him up. He could not make out much, thanks to the strobe effect which fucked up his vision. Then he heard a familiar voice as he clambered back to his feet.

"Had enough, yet, you fucked up reject?"

The voice had a strong Irish lilt to it. That girl! He had no time to ponder anything else as the girl kneed him in his right thigh. He went down, but not before he grabbed the girl's left ankle and he yanked. There was a scream and the girl landed beside him on the mat. To his surprise, she laughed.

Then the strobe-effect stopped and the lights came back on.

* * *

"Holy fuck!"

Two armour-clad individuals came over and they stopped before him. He knew who they were: Crimson and Drift – leaders of the vigilante organisation known as _Vengeance_.

"Let's debrief after a shower, shall we," Crimson suggested and she turned to head for a far corner of the space.

Craig got back to his feet and he helped the Irish girl to her feet.

"Thanks, Craig – my name is Saoirse."

"Hi."

Craig followed the girl as she pushed through an unmarked doorway and she pointed to a door over to her right while she passed through a door behind her. The doors were labelled – **GENTS** and **LADIES**. Craig smiled as he pushed open the door and walked into the male changing rooms.

"Hi, Craig, I'm Cameron – otherwise known as Drift."

The young man was removing his body armour and placing the items into a large dufflebag.

"Where am I?"

"This is the _Vengeance Training Centre_. You fought well, I suggest you go take a shower."

Cameron finished undressing and picked up a towel before vanishing through a door at the back of the changing rooms. Craig realised he _was_ sweaty, so he quickly pulled off his clothes and swept up a towel, following Cameron. He found himself in a large tiled room that was hazy with drifting steam. He hung his towel on a hook and passed around the wall to find a row of six showers, in two groups of three.

He passed between the two groups to find an identical set of showers, two of which were occupied. His eyes went wide as they worked their way up the most gorgeous set of legs he had ever seen and they stopped at. . .

"You like what you're seein'?" Saoirse asked.

"Looks like it!" another voice commented with a chuckle.

Craig peered down at his . . . and he felt his face heating up.

"I'm Natasha. . ."

"Crimson?" Craig ventured as he covered himself with both hands.

"Got it in one, kid!" Natasha replied. "I suggest that you go use the boy's showers, back the way you came."

"Uh, huh."

* * *

 ** _An hour later_**

 ** _Bridge of Allan, Stirling_**

"Craig!"

"Hi, Mum."

"He passed the interview," Natasha advised Mrs Montgomery. "Hello, I am Natasha King."

"Hello."

"Your son did well. He has had a decidedly unhappy few years and we are here to help him adjust to a normal life. Unfortunately, he has needs; we can help him with those needs."

"Needs?" Amy Montgomery asked as she sat down and waved Natasha to do the same.

"Craig was trained to be a killer. He has killed and he has a need to assuage an urge for violence. Both you and your husband have held security clearances. Those clearances have been renewed. I will leave Craig to run you through what he went through, earlier. I will not throw any more at you, for now. But rest assured that we are here to help you and son."

"Thank you," Amy said. "He's actually smiling – something he has not done since he returned. Did you see something you liked, Craig?"

Craig simply nodded, his grin growing.

"Mr Montgomery..."

"Please, Mrs King, call me Monty, or Chief."

"Then please call me Natasha."

"Of course, Natasha."

"Chief, Cassie is going to pick you up, tomorrow night at 19:30 – we have a surprise for you."


	17. Thunderbolt

**_That evening  
Friday, August 26th, 2016_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Mum!"

"Hi, sweetie,"

Stephanie ran forwards and she gave Mindy a big hug.

"It's only been a couple of days!" Mindy pointed out as Stephanie squeezed with one arm.

"Your point?" Stephanie demanded.

"Go on, you little scoundrel!" Mindy laughed as she ruffled Stephanie's hair. "Introduce me to your new friend."

"Mum, this is Yvette; we were trained together."

"Is that so?" Mindy replied, a little surprised. "Friends?"

"You seem surprised," Stephanie growled. "I didn't piss off everybody in _Urban Predator_!"

"Almost. . ." Electra muttered.

"Enough from you!" Stephanie directed as she watched Yvette examine Mindy.

Yvette turned to look up at Saoirse, then back at Stephanie. Finally, Yvette looked back up at Mindy, boring into her eyes.

"I think I know who you are," Yvette began. "You're the person that we were trained to become. You're the person that we were trained to destroy. You're Hit Girl."

Mindy glared at Stephanie who just shrugged innocently. Mindy then moved onto Yvette, giving the ten-year-old girl a death glare. The girl did not flinch a muscle, standing her ground.

"Well, Yvette, you are a very astute young girl. Very brave, too. Can you be trusted?"

Mindy glanced at Stephanie, then at Saoirse and Electra. Each nodded in turn.

"Yes, ma'am," Yvette replied as she looked directly into Mindy's eyes.

"You have a name?" Mindy asked.

"La Terreaur."

Mindy laughed out loud.

"Suits you, Yvette; it really does!"

Stephanie laughed.

"The _Psyche Crew_ is back together!" Electra called out.

" _Psyche Crew_?" Mindy queried.

"You don't want to know," Saoirse growled sourly as she shook her head in disgust.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

While Mindy, Keira, and Cassie chatted together, downstairs, the girls all squeezed into the bedroom used by Naomi and Kaitlin bedroom.

Kaitlin rounded on Stephanie and Electra.

"Neither of you finished that story from the other night," Kaitlin complained.

"Story?" Yvette asked.

"I was telling them how 'lectra got her scar," Stephanie explained.

"Ah!" Yvette exclaimed.

"I never got around to telling them how Electra stopped being a Yellow."

Yvette grinned.

"May I tell the story, please?" Yvette asked.

"Oui, vas y," Electra replied. "We helped Yvette with her English, so she returned the favour."

"You ready, mes ami?"

"Oui!" came the response from everyone present.

* * *

 ** _An unknown location in the USA_**

 ** _Late June 2014_**

Almost ten days had passed since the adventurous excursion to Virginia.

Stephanie was back at her training while Electra had returned to her duties in The Cage. In fact, Electra was just releasing a young eight-year-old French girl from the cage which she had occupied for two days.

"Get dressed!" Electra ordered coldly.

"Merci, Electra, Stephanie said you were good – I think your time in the woods hardened you up."

"You're a friend of Walker?"

"Yvette; you helped keep our friend alive – thanks."

Electra smiled.

"Hope I wasn't too hard on you – a friend of Steph is a friend of mine," Electra said quietly.

"Haig!"

Electra span around to see an instructor looking directly at her. The next few minutes were a blur as the instructor dragged the unfortunate Yellow from The Cage and into the Dining Room. All sound stopped as two hundred sets of eyes turned to stare at the seven-year-old girl in the yellow joggers and yellow sweat-top. Electra did her best to ignore the stares, most of which showed contempt; she was after all, just a mere Yellow, and not worthy of causing such a disturbance during a very valuable meal.

Three great people from history said that, 'An army marches on its stomach.' – _Urban Predator_ was no different and the interruption was only warranted if there was worthwhile entertainment. The instructor released Electra and he smiled as two more instructors entered, one carrying a bag. There was muttering as many of the _Predators_ present smelt blood in the air – or at least a strapping. Stephanie herself, was several tables away and she looked warily at Electra who was starting to shake with fear.

"Take off your clothes."

Electra began to cry as she pulled off her yellow sweat-top, kicked off her yellow running shoes, and then pushed down her yellow joggers. There was a collective intake of breath as those nearest took in the various medical dressings that ran from the top of her chest down to her left thigh, plus the additional dressings on her right thigh and her left shoulder. The girl was shaking, as she stood in just her knickers before a hundred _Predators_.

"This little Yellow has proved to us that she does not belong where she is," the instructor called out. "She bested a Phase 2 Predator – two actually. She also killed one."

There was a sharp and collective intake of breath – a Yellow was incapable of . . . well, anything. Even most Phase 1 _Predators_ had never done more than hurt somebody, let alone killed anyone. But for a Yellow. . .

"Electra Haig, in recognition of your actions while in the field with Walker, you are no longer a Yellow. You are now a Phase 1 _Predator_."

There was stunned silence as the instructor with the bag pulled out a set of brand-new dark grey joggers, complete with a white T-shirt, and a pair of black running shoes.

"Get dressed!" The instructor ordered and then he ignored the girl as she rapidly pulled on her new clothing that instantly elevated her status. "Another young girl excelled on the same exercise, a short while ago. Walker!"

Stephanie stood up and faced the instructor. There was more crude muttering – she wasn't the most popular girl there; unless she was being strapped naked on a table, of course. Then the instructor began to speak and Stephanie just wished that the floor would open up beneath her.

"Psyche is _miles_ beyond the rest of you useless wankers! It is time you all caught up to _her_ standards!"

Stephanie blanched. A target had just been metaphorically pasted on her back. She did _not_ need _any_ extra attention; far from it.

..._...

Stephanie almost ran out of the dining room the moment the instructors had gone and the bad language had begun to flow. She did not even pause to congratulate (or commiserate) Electra for her promotion. She spent a good hour or so generally blending into the surroundings and avoiding pretty much anybody – even her own 'crew'.

Then, towards nine that evening, she returned to her dormitory only to find that some changes had been made. The glares which Stephanie received as she walked between the beds made Stephanie wish that she was back in that Virginia forest. She reached her bed, surprisingly in one piece, having ignored the vicious and degrading comments thrown in her general direction, only to find that her immediate neighbour was no longer Yvette, it was Electra.

"I'm radioactive enough, without _you_ making it worse!"

"Sorry," Electra muttered, knowing that as an ex-Yellow, she was an unknown and not to be trusted until she had proved herself, one way or another.

It seemed that the instructors were not quite done with having fun at Stephanie's expense and making her life hell. Yvette grimaced from her new bed which was now directly opposite Stephanie's. A pleasant change was that Jasmine Summers was now in the bed on the other side of Stephanie.

"Jasmine, Electra. Yvette. . ."

"We've met," Yvette replied.

"Oh, yes – you were incarcerated for setting fire to the Physics Lab."

"It was an accident!" Yvette insisted.

"Welcome to the _Predator_ club, Electra!" Ruth said as she and Maxine sat down on Stephanie's bed.

"Thanks," Electra smiled as she got herself ready for bed on the first night of the beginning of her new life.

* * *

 ** _The following evening  
Saturday, August 27th_**

 ** _Vengeance Air Station - Thunderbolt_**

"What is this place?"

"An old RAF base – RAF Kirknewton. Used only for ATC gliders now. We repurposed an ancient hanger; it was modernised and extended."

As Cassie approached the turn, she slowed and fumbled for a remote. Thirty yards off the road there was a barrier blocking any further progress. Cassie pressed the remote and the barrier raised upwards. The barrier closed after they passed through.

"Security was upgraded in a major way. The facility is black and the ATC know not to draw attention to us. The MOD have plastered their usual not-so-threatening signs around, but we're keeping it low-key."

Cassie turned right before she turned left behind an old hanger and drove along a crushed stone road for about 270 yards before she turned left onto a freshly laid crushed stone road and pointed the Ford Ranger directly at a more modern structure a little over five-hundred yards distant.

..._...

The hanger was large, about 120 feet by 70 feet, and the corrugated iron structure covered an area of about 8,500 square-feet. The 96-foot-wide, main hanger doors faced in a southerly direction onto a large reinforced-concrete hardstanding of about the same area. The perimeter was an eight-foot tall, razor-wire topped, chain-link fence which enclosed an area of about seven acres.

As they approached, the chain-link gate automatically slid open allowing them access.

"That first gate was opened remotely from the Command Centre," Cassie explained as they stopped after twenty-five yards at another gate. "The second gate will only open once the first gate has closed."

"A kill-zone?"

"Eight Claymores – four per side. . ."

"That could ruin your entire day!"

They drove up a dirt track and then across the concrete hard-standing and through the dark, twelve-foot gap in the partially opened hanger doors which then slid noiselessly closed behind them.

..._...

The lights snapped on the moment that the doors were sealed. David Montgomery was stunned as he exited the Ford Ranger and gazed around the interior of the pristine facility. The walls were concrete block, painted white from the top down to about twelve feet off the ground. The rest was a dark red. Several enormous air-conditioning units hung from the ceiling to allow turbines to be run within the hanger while the doors were closed.

The hanger was currently empty of aircraft and the Ford Ranger sat in the centre of the right-hand of two red painted dashed circles on the dark grey, anti-skid surface of the hanger floor. The left-hand circle was a lot larger than the one to the right. Both circles were crossed near the front and back with a solid horizontal stop line. Other white dotted markings led to the hanger doors.

"Two helicopters – one is small, the other much larger," The Chief mused as he examined the markings.

"Yes – the larger one is an AW109LUH and is called _Twilight_. The other is _Scourge_ – she is an MD 540F – and she is our light attack helicopter. Over there at the back, we have our munitions storage. To the right, at the back, is the engineering workshop and the right side of the hanger is made up of offices and accommodation."

"When do your charges arrive?"

" _Scourge_ is still undergoing advanced testing – _Twilight_ , though, she will be here in, oh, five to ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?"

" _Twilight_ is on a ferry flight from Boscombe Down. Our pilot has our boss with her."

"Her? You have a female pilot?"

"Yes, we do. The best the Royal Navy has available."

..._...

 _"Vengeance, this is Twilight. Requesting landing clearance at Thunderbolt, over."_

The female voice came from a wall-mounted speaker.

 _"Twilight, Vengeance. Clearance granted."_

"That's the Command Centre talking to the helicopter," Cassie explained. "Once the helicopter closes, the pilot will trigger the landing procedure from the onboard computer. At three miles, the landing pad outside will be illuminated by electro-luminescent strips embedded in the concrete. At one mile, all externally visible lighting will be turned off and the hanger doors will open. You may need these..."

Cassie handed Montgomery a flight deck helmet with integrated communications and NVGs. Quickly, Montgomery and Cassie pulled on the helmets and adjusted the NVGs. Seconds later, right on cue, the lights in the hanger went out and the doors slid open noiselessly. Outside, the landing grid markings were illuminated in a luminescent pure white and the roar of approaching turbines along with spinning rotors was readily audible.

The helicopter was visible in the NVGs but not with the naked eyes as all navigation and landing lights were extinguished.

..._...

The undercarriage was lowered just as the Agusta-Westland AW109LUH crossed the security fence and flared for a landing. Cassie produced two illuminated wands and held them vertically with her arms bent at the elbows. The helicopter hovered over the pad and Cassie then crossed both of her arms with the wands held out to her sides. The helicopter descended until the undercarriage contacted the pad and Cassie began to walk backwards along the solid white line towards the hanger. Her upper arms and the wands moved from horizontal to vertical together and back again.

The almost forty-three-foot long helicopter edged forwards slowly while Cassie and the Chief kept well clear of the thirty-five-and-a-half-foot four-bladed main rotor blades which spun rapidly eight feet off the ground. Cassie continued to guide the helicopter into the hanger until the front wheel reached the correct solid horizontal white STOP line. Then she raised her wands above her head and moved them horizontal at arm's length and then back again above her head. The helicopter came to a dead stop. Cassie held the left wand down to her side and brought the other wand across her throat in a cutting movement.

As the main and tail rotors slowed and came to a stop, the twin turbines whined down to nothing as they were shutdown.

..._...

The hanger doors had begun to close almost immediately the tail rotor had passed inside. The hanger was deathly silent except for the crackle of hot turbine blades and the whine of hydraulic systems shutting down. Finally, the two front hatches on either side of the cockpit swung open and two people emerged. Both wore full flight suits and helmets.

The Chief noticed that the pilot wore a dark grey flight suit and she had a patch on her left upper chest. It read 'VENGEANCE' and 'SCORPION'. Her helmet bore a set of NVGs which were hinged upwards away from her eyes. The Chief also noticed that both were women, even before they both removed their flight helmets and both sighed with the relief of being back on the ground after a three-hundred nautical mile flight lasting a little over two and a half hours.

"Hi, Chief, I'm Scorpion," Scorpion said as she offered her hand.

The Chief took it and shook hands. He felt like he knew the young female pilot but he was not sure where from.

"Chief," the other young woman said with an American accent as she offered her own hand. "I'm Hit Girl."

The Chief looked shocked by the revelation but he nonetheless shook hands with arguably the most violent woman in the world.

..._...

Twenty minutes later, the Chief was sitting on a comfortable seat in the pilot lounge. Across from him, sat Hit Girl and Scorpion. To his right, sat Cassie.

"Time for explanations, Chief," Hit Girl began as she finished putting her, still damp, hair up into a single ponytail. "My name is Mindy, and this is Keira. Cassie also has another name: Nemesis."

The Chief absorbed the information and mulled it over.

"Why are you revealing such information to me? _Vengeance_ , _Fusion_ ; laying them open for me."

"We want you to join us, your son too," Cassie explained. "As you can see, _Vengeance_ requires an aviation engineer."

"There's also way too many girls in _Vengeance_ – we need some men onboard," Keira added.

"To be honest, since I retired, I have been a little bored. However, I have my family to think of. I know that Craig needs support, and I accept that, but is he going to be put in danger?"

Mindy sighed.

"Yes, if Craig joins _Vengeance_ , he will be placed into dangerous situations," Mindy replied candidly.

"Thank you, for being honest, Mindy."

" _Fusion_ and _Vengeance_ are built on trust. Every member must trust each other, one hundred percent. Honesty is part of what both organisations are built on."

"Okay – I'm in."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Sunday, August 28th_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Craig, please meet the team."

Natasha indicated each member in turn.

"My brother, Cameron, also known as Drift. I am Crimson. We lead _Vengeance_. In charge of the technical aspects, we have Eric – or Q as we refer to him. Cassie, otherwise known as Nemesis. Keira, is our pilot, Scorpion. That leads us onto the four bitches from hell! Harper – Polaris. Naomi – Prowl. Kaitlin – Glide. Electra – Rigour. _Vengeance_ , please welcome our newest members: David Montgomery and his son, Craig. Craig was a Phase 2 _Predator_. His codename is Stripe. David will be Chief. We have just taken delivery of our first aircraft. _Vengeance_ is growing and we will be taking on more important missions. It is a new dawn for us here and with Mindy's assistance, we will grow what we have begun."

The girls began to cheer which Craig found majorly embarrassing.

"Thank you for your welcome, Craig and I are very pleased to be joining such an illustrious organisation."

"Welcome, both of you," Mindy said. " _Vengeance_ has grown more than I could ever have expected, back when I first came across Cameron and Natasha."

The twins blushed slightly.

"I will be travelling back to Chicago, tonight, with Saoirse, Stephanie, and Electra. I am enjoying these more regular trips back to the UK and I look forward to many more."

"Will Electra be coming back, soon?" Kaitlin enquired.

"Yes, honey – we just need to complete her training. Give it a few weeks."

* * *

 ** _Mid-way across the North Atlantic_**

"You've made an impression amongst the other _Predators_ , Electra."

"Thanks, Mindy."

"Stephanie has trained you very well – she continues to surprise me."

Mindy smiled over to where her eldest daughter was fast asleep in a seat.

"She reminds me of that cartoon," Saoirse commented. "You know, 'Transformers: More than meets the eye!' That's Stephanie!"

"Maybe it should be: ' _Predators_ – more than meets the eye'!" Electra quipped with an evil grin.

"Good one!" Mindy laughed.

Electra was right on the mark.


	18. Dagger

**_Sunday, August 28th, 2016_**

 ** _London, England  
Trinity Square Gardens_**

The girl was running through the night.

She was running for her life.

Normally, the girl's skills would have allowed her to fight off and where necessary, kill, anybody who tried to threaten her life and well-being. That very life and well-being were, at that moment, at risk of being extinguished by her pursuers. The girl reached under her leather jacket and she pulled out a small compact pistol. She raised the Taurus PT111 and fired off four rounds before the slide locked back on the empty magazine. She threw the weapon at one of her pursuers striking him on the head but not hindering his advance in any way.

At the last moment, just before the pursuers reached the girl, she fell and skidded across the stone pathway before she rolled into the adjoining street and . . .

"What do we have here?" a deep voice boomed from above her.

"Oh, thank God . . ." the girl breathed out before she lost consciousness.

* * *

 ** _Four hours later_**

 ** _The Royal London Hospital_**

The nurse studied the young girl who had recently been brought in.

She had carried nothing to identify her; she was an enigma. The girl had been brought in by a Metropolitan Police Officer and his colleague. He had advised them that the girl had quite literally landed at his feet and he stated that he had heard many feet and possibly gunshots a minute or so before. Other than that, the girl was a mystery.

The reason for the girl passing out had soon become apparent once the nurse and a colleague had begun to undress her. Under the black leather jacket had been an empty pistol holster – not the sort of thing that you usually found a girl of her age wearing. As her T-shirt was removed, it was found to be soaked in blood – as a result, the T-shirt was quickly cut off. There, on the young girls left side was a small puncture wound.

The wound was not fresh and it showed signs of infection. The nurse cleaned and dressed the wound as her colleague continued to remove the rest of the girl's clothing. She appeared to be about ten, probably eleven, years-old. From the smell of her clothing and her body odour, it was obvious that the girl had been living on the streets. She was also very undernourished and showing evidence of dehydration. Once the nurses had her stripped, they checked over the rest of her body for any further injuries. But apart from plenty of scratches and bruises plus a few scabs, plus a long scar on her left side, there were no other treatable injuries visible externally.

After a bed-bath, the young girl was moved to a private room and allowed to rest. The nurse had noticed something during the bath and she sifted through several memos back at the nurses' station. There! The memo was very cryptic but it asked that if any child between the ages of approximately eight and sixteen were found with a small dagger tattoo behind the right ear, then the event was to be notified to a London phone number.

After fifteen minutes on the phone, being transferred around, the nurse finally spoke with a Commander Lawrence.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Monday, August 29th_**

 ** _Scotland_**

 ** _VAS Thunderbolt_**

Keira had her arms buried up to the elbows in the _Twilight's_ port engine.

"I think that's got it!" Chief Montgomery announced from the cockpit as the flight computer gave a green light to what had been a faulty sensor.

The bulkhead speaker behind them squawked into life.

"Scorpion!"

Keira pulled her hands out of the engine and fumbled for her radio.

"Yeah, Cassie?"

"Scorpion, scramble!" Cassie replied. "We need to be in London as soon as you can manage it."

Keira jumped down and wiped her hands off on some cotton waste before heading into Flight Operations. She opened a secured cabinet and pulled out a London flight plan.

"Okay – we'll need the ferry tank filled but we can get there in a little under two point five hours."

"Spook will have fuel and security primed for our arrival. PAX will be Nemesis – the Chief can come too as you'll be going into the City with me. See you in about an hour."

* * *

 ** _London Heliport_**

The landing was smooth and Spook was there to meet us.

He left the Chief with three able-bodied apes from MI5 for security and after Keira had changed out of her flight suit into smarter clothing, we both climbed into a black Range Rover Sentinel while Spook took the front passenger seat and ordered our driver to step on it. The seven-mile drive would take mere mortals almost forty-five minutes – we managed it in twenty-five with a little help from a siren and blue lights.

We had raced over London Bridge at almost seventy miles-per-hour!

* * *

 ** _The Royal London Hospital_**

The young girl had been moved into a private room in the secure wing of the hospital.

As they approached, a man in a dark suit stepped out of a doorway and stood his ground blocking the corridor. Spook smiled and they each held up their identification badges. Scorpion's was brand new, unlike those of Nemesis and Spook. The man showed his own Special Branch identification and he waved them into the room.

The girl was asleep. Her dark brown hair was long and loosely spread over her pillow. She appeared angelic to look at but considering everyone's own experiences and why they were there, they all had other ideas. Scorpion walked over to the girl's right side and gently eased back her right ear. Yes – the same tattoo Harper and the other girls had was there. Keira nodded at Nemesis as a nurse arrived with a doctor.

"Hello. I am Doctor Andrew Samson and this is Nurse Diane Watkins. Nurse Watkins was one of the nurses who first treated this young girl. She has not awoken since she was admitted; her body is fighting against several infections – but nothing serious. Evidence shows her to have been living on the streets. As soon as she awakes, she can leave. She needs several good meals to build up her body again and I will prescribe a daunting pile of medications for her to take. All in all, give her a month and she will be right as rain."

Nurse Watkins spoke up.

"Is the girl in trouble? Special Branch – you three dropping in within hours of her being admitted? That tattoo?"

"Have no fear, Nurse Watkins," Nemesis commented as she showed the nurse her identity card. "We are here to help. It _is_ a matter of National Security and we must request your silence for the girl's protection. She has been badly mistreated by an organisation that no longer exists. That girl will get the best care and she will be looked after every second by people who care about her and who are aware of her circumstances."

"I believe you."

* * *

 ** _An hour later_**

The girl felt really sore but somehow, she felt relaxed.

She awoke to find herself looking at a pair of young women who sat in chairs beside her bed reading magazines and exchanging gossip. She tried to say something, but her throat only emitted a dry croak.

"Hi – I'm Cassie, let me get you a drink of water."

After a brief sip of water through a straw, the girl lay back and studied her new surroundings. It was a hospital – that was blatantly obvious. Her skilled eyes examined the two women and she took in the bulges under the jackets – left hip for one and under the shoulder for the other.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Friends. What may we call you?"

"I'm Abigail – that's all you're getting for now."

"As I said, I'm Cassie, and this is Keira."

"What are you?"

The girls placed their identity cards onto the bed.

"MI5 – nice."

"We know what you are, Abigail. We know that you've had a crap childhood," Cassie offered.

"You think you know what I am?"

"You are a _Predator_ – we've seen the dagger."

"So – you know about people like me?"

"Yes, we do, Abigail."

"You throw them all in cells, yet?"

"Why would we do that?"

"Where else might you put a ten-year-old killer?"

"You've been trained to do many bad things – not your fault. You deserve to have a life. We want to help you – if you'll let us."

Abigail glared up at Cassie and Keira.

"Well, we'll see you in the morning, then Abigail, and see how you're feeling tomorrow. Good night."

Abigail smiled sweetly without saying a word as they two women walked out of the door.

* * *

 ** _Just after eleven that night_**

Abigail had waited until final rounds before she had gently edged out of the bed and headed for the door.

She took a moment to peer at her clothing – or lack thereof. She was wearing a hospital gown, nothing more. Well, she'd worn less, she thought to herself. She edged the door open a few inches before peering out into the dark corridor – there was some illumination, a dozen or so yards away at what she presumed to be the Nurses' Station. The ten-year-old ran down the corridor before she skidded to a halt on her bare feet, just outside the light.

She carefully peered around the top of the desk. . .

..._...

"Must be cold running around pretty-much naked," Cassie chuckled.

"Bet you'd like these," Keira suggested as she held up a set of clothes which Abigail thought appeared to be suspiciously close to her own sizes.

Abigail stood up and she glared at Cassie.

"How did you know?" she demanded angrily.

"Remember; we know about people like you. Do want to meet some more little girls, just like you?"

Abigail's angry glare softened and her shoulder's slumped. She had spent so long alone that she needed somebody. She needed to be with people. Even better, she needed to be with people like her. Those few days with Jamie and that other girl had been heaven, but that was gone – she couldn't even remember where or when it was; her memory was like mush. Despite her best attempts, she felt tears running down her cheeks. She was tired of running. She was tired of fighting. She just wanted to be safe. For some reason, she trusted the two women. She nodded and allowed herself to be led back to her room.

"Get dressed, honey, and we'll take you to somewhere that you can call home," Keira said as she laid out the new clothes on the bed: jeans, a T-shirt, socks, underwear, and a pair of trainers, plus a sweatshirt.

Abigail wiped away her tears and she ditched the hospital gown. She quickly pulled on the new clothes which fitted remarkably well. Once she was dressed, Abigail felt very vulnerable.

"Let's go home," Cassie suggested as she put an arm around the ten-year-old's shoulders.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Tuesday, August 30th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle, Scotland_**

To avoid disturbing the entire household, Abigail was allowed to sleep on the sofa in the living room – under the watchful eye of Keira and Cassie who took turns watching the new girl.

Kaitlin was the first one to meet Abigail. Kaitlin entered the kitchen to find a strange girl eating a bowl of cereal. Kaitlin, being Kaitlin, she went with the flow and she circled the girl as she sat at the table in the breakfast room.

"You're another one, aren't you?" Kaitlin asked.

"Another what?" Abigail replied.

Kaitlin smiled.

"I'd say: Phase 2," Kaitlin suggested as she picked out a bowl and a spoon.

"Maybe," Abigail replied cagily.

"Okay. Pass me the Coco Pops, please."

Abigail complied, pushing over a jug of milk, too.

"Thanks – I'm Kaitlin. . ."

"Abigail."

Kaitlin concentrated on assembling her breakfast before cramming large spoonful's of soggy Coco Pops into her mouth, while studying Abigail as she herself ate. Abigail tried to ignore the younger girl but the brown eyes stared unrelentingly. She was about to call Kaitlin out when three more girls appeared. They both stopped dead at the sight of Abigail.

"A new girl. Hi, I'm Naomi."

"Harper."

"I'm Yvette."

"Hello."

"Her name is Abigail – that's all I know, so far," Kaitlin explained. "I'm planning to interrogate her further when I've finished eating,"

Abigail smiled.

"Abigail Wilde. I assume you are all _Predators_?"

"Yes – we were Phase 2," Naomi explained. "My little cousin, over there, she was Phase 1."

"You all live here?"

"No – Harper lives with her sister, Keira, in Edinburgh."

"I'm just here for some training – I live in Paris," Yvette added.

"You don't look too good," Kaitlin stated as she finished pouring the remnants of her chocolate milk directly from the bowl into her mouth – something which Cassie hated.

Kaitlin was right, Abigail was looking very pale.

* * *

 ** _Later that day_**

Abigail had been helped upstairs to a bed, where she had slept for a few hours.

She had awoken around lunchtime and she looked very miserable. She had a temperature and was feeling nauseous. Cassie was worried, so she had made a call and arranged for a Doctor to visit.

"You have a doctor who makes house calls?"

"Oh, yes, our Medic likes to travel," Cassie replied cryptically as a tall woman strolled into the bedroom.

"Good morning, Abigail, I am Doctor Catherine Bennett, but you may call me Cathy, or Doctor Bennett – whichever you feel most comfortable with."

"American?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"I like you."

"Pleased to hear it," Cathy chuckled before her demeanour changed to that of a professional doctor. "I understand you were in hospital after collapsing at the feet of a London police officer. The hospital noticed that you have been living on the streets – right?"

"Yes, err Doctor Bennett."

"You are a _Predator_?"

"You know about _Predators_?" Abigail asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes – very familiar with the likes of you, young lady."

"Can you help me?"

"Yes – let's check you over and see what's ailing you."

..._...

Cathy left the bedroom, two hours later, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry it took so long, but I had to be certain. She's sleeping for the moment," Cathy explained to Cassie and Keira with a smile, but then her expression turned cold. "That girl has been raped. She is totally unaware of the event, fortunately. On examining the blood tests from the hospital documents, there are minute traces of GHB – gamma hydroxybutyric – in her blood. That little girl was sexually assaulted by whomever she was with. The physical signs are there of an assault – probably within the past week."

"There's more?" Cassie was astounded by the revelation.

"Yes," Cathy went on. "Abigail has contracted genital herpes. That is why she is so weak. I have given her an anti-viral which should help reduce her symptoms while I go and find some drugs for her."

"How long for her to recover, fully?" Keira asked.

"Give it five days and she should be fine. She'll find it painful to use the bathroom but she'll be fine, physically at least. As for her mental state – I don't know. _Predators_ are fragile enough without something like this at the age of ten."

"Thank you, for coming, Cathy," Cassie said. "We were lucky you were not too far away."

"Enjoying a nice getaway with Ryan before he has to return to his ship."

..._...

"Thank you for the coffee, Alexandra," Ryan Bennett commented.

"You're very welcome, Ryan."

"Ah – the Doc returns!"

"With bad news," Alexandra noted.

Cathy explained the basics to Alexandra and Ryan – both of whom felt appalled by the news.

"That girl has been through too much, already, but for this?" Alexandra said.

"What sort of animal would do such a thing to a ten-year-old little girl?" Ryan seethed.

"A dead one," Cassie replied darkly.

..._...

"What's happening with Abigail," Kaitlin asked, a few minutes later, with a worried expression on her face.

"Abigail is unwell, honey."

"What's wrong with her?" Kaitlin persisted, her voice increasing in volume.

"Honey, just let her rest, please," Cassie advised.

"But. . ."

"No buts, Kaitlin," Cassie cautioned and the young girl backed off.

Kaitlin stomped over to the couch and she slumped down, sulking. Her unhappy expression and worry was mirrored on the faces of Naomi, Harper, and Yvette.

..._...

Later that night, Cassie awoke to hear screaming. She leapt out of her bed and ran out onto the landing. The screaming wasn't coming from the girl's room, next on the left, but from the next bedroom on the left – Abigail's room.

Cassie pushed open the door and flicked on the light. Abigail was having a nightmare, thrashing around in the bed, tears streaming down her face. Then, without warning, she sat bolt upright and her eyes opened as she came awake. The ten-year-old girl was shaking as Cassie sat down on the bed and tentatively placed an arm around the ex- _predator's_ (was there such a thing as an ex- _predator_ , Cassie thought) shoulders. Abigail turned her face into Cassie and then wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly, sobbing hard.

Considering what the girl had been through over the past few years, a breakdown was inevitable. To be honest, Cassie wasn't surprised and she had been dreading that it might have been Kaitlin or Naomi. The girl had nothing – she had been through hell. Cathy had mentioned PTSD: post-traumatic stress disorder. The disorder manifested itself in many different forms, often years after the triggering event.

Cassie stayed with Abigail for most of the night, keeping her calm.

* * *

 ** _Wednesday, August 31st  
Mid-morning_**

"I heard screaming, last night."

"Yes, Naomi, you did."

"Abigail?"

Cassie nodded, her face a mask of worry.

"Abigail is having trouble coming to terms with her past. It's all coming back to her in a bad way. It's not a surprise – you Predators have experienced a lot of things that young children should never, ever, experience. It's called PTSD – post-traumatic stress disorder. I'm surprised that none of you have shown symptoms, although Kaitlin _did_ cause a little damage to that BMW."

"A _little_? She wrecked the damn thing!" Naomi corrected.

Kaitlin growled – she hated to be reminded of _that night_ – she saw it as a personal failure.

"I am reformed!" Kaitlin pointed out coldly.

Naomi started to laugh, as did Cassie.

"What did she wreck?" Yvette asked. "I need to hear this story."

Kaitlin just glowered at everybody.

..._...

It was a difficult thing to try and explain to a ten-year-old little girl. She took it remarkably well – there were no tears, nothing.

"Are you sure that I . . . that I was . . . you know?"

"I'm sorry, Abigail," Cassie said. "But, yes, a man forced himself on you after drugging you."

"There's more?"

"You have a sexually transmitted disease - genital herpes. That is why you've felt so bad."

"But – I don't remember anything. . ."

"That's why he used the drugs."

"I'm going to get better?"

"Yes, you need to continue taking those anti-virals – Cathy said that you'd recover fully in a few days."

"May I be alone, please?"

"Of course, honey. I'll be down stairs if you need me."

It tore Cassie apart to leave the bedroom and close the door. Abigail could be heard sobbing hard as Cassie left.

..._...

Abigail felt a little better that afternoon, so she was allowed out of bed. She ate a small lunch before joining the girls out in the garden. Cassie watched as four of the girls ran around like they did not have a care in the world. The fifth girl sat under a tree and she seemed to be enjoying the warm weather. Cassie headed back inside to get some cold drinks for the girls – as usual, they would all be sweating buckets.

Ten minutes later, Cassie heard running feet and Kaitlin burst into the kitchen.

"Cassie! Cassie!"

"Kaitlin! Please use your indoors voice."

Kaitlin rolled her eyes but reduced the volume – slightly.

"It's Abigail – she's . . . she's dying!"

Cassie and Keira bolted out of their chairs and they began to run after Kaitlin, out of the house and down towards the paddock.

..._...

The scene was worse than either of them could ever have considered.

By 'dying', they had thought that Abigail was just hurt and that Kaitlin was overreacting – but no. When they arrived at the bottom of the paddock, they found Naomi and Harper kneeling on the ground either side of Abigail who was lying on her back with Yvette holding her head – the grass all around Abigail was stained with blood. Ominously, there was a very sharp kitchen knife lying on the grass and Naomi was missing her T-shirt which was wrapped very tightly around Abigail's left wrist. Harper was gripping the T-shirt tightly with both hands while Naomi was talking to Abigail, doing her best to keep the ten-year-old conscious.

Cassie reached for the pouch that she always carried in the small of her back – it was a small, but comprehensive, first-aid kit. Having the girls around had taught her, very quickly, that little _Predators_ hurt themselves quite often, therefore, having a first-aid kit to hand had seemed prudent. She ripped it open and pulled out some gauze and a crepe bandage.

"Harper, hold the arm up above her head," Cassie directed as she pulled away the sodden T-shirt.

Cassie applied the gauze to the nasty-looking wound and she quickly wrapped the gauze bandage tightly around the wound and secure it with some tape.

"Keep the arm elevated, Harper."

Harper nodded while Cassie checked over Abigail for any other wounds – there were none – and she checked her pulse which was strong. The four girls appeared horrified by what they were witnessing. Keira scooped up the ten-year-old like she was nothing and carried her up to the house and back to her bed. The young girl was unconscious by the time she was tucked up in bed.

"That was bad – what's going on?" Harper demanded.

Cassie looked at Keira who nodded.

"Something bad happened to Abigail and I don't think it is something that we should spread about. Can you all trust me – I promise that when the time is right, Abigail will let you know what happened to her."

The four girls exchanged glances and they each nodded.

"Okay – we accept that," Naomi said. "Can one of us stay with her?"

"Of course. I don't think that she should be left alone – not even for a second," Keira replied.

"We take shifts – two hours, throughout the day and night," Naomi suggested.

"I'll take the first shift," Kaitlin directed.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

Naomi pushed open the door to the bedroom.

Harper was on watch and she was reading a comic.

"Everything okay?" Naomi asked.

"She's still asleep – I'm sure she's been having nightmares, but she hasn't woken yet," Harper replied.

"I hope she's okay – I like her," Naomi commented.

"She's very gentle," Harper confirmed. "Bet Steph'll like her too."

"See you later. You want my comic?"

"Nah – got my book."

..._...

Harper was very gloomy when she slunk onto the sofa to cuddle up with her sister.

"Thank you for being so caring, Harper," Keira said as she hugged the unhappy girl.

All the happiness had been sucked out of Blairhoyle. None of the girls had done so much as smile ever since 'it' happened. They all knew what Abigail had done – well, what she had tried to do, but nobody had actually used the s-word, just as Cassie didn't want to use the r-word for what had already happened to Abigail.

Only time would tell when it came to Abigail's mental scars healing.

* * *

 ** _Early the following morning  
Thursday, September 1st_**

Abigail struggled to remember where she was.

Then she felt a stinging pain in her left wrist – it was bandaged; why? Then it hit her – two words: rape and suicide. She opened her eyes and in the dim light of the bedside lamp, she saw the shape of a young girl sitting in a chair.

"Hi, Abigail – it's Kaitlin."

"Hi. . ." Abigail said quietly.

Kaitlin stood up and came over to the bed.

"May I?"

"Please."

"You scared the fucking shit out of us!" Kaitlin growled.

"I'm sorry, Kaitlin – you've all been so good to me."

"Why?"

"Why did I try to kill myself?"

"Yes."

"Has anybody told you about what happened to me and why I fell ill?"

"No – Cassie said it was private."

"They told me that I was raped and that the bastard who raped me gave me a fucking STD!"

"STD?"

"Sexually transmitted disease."

Kaitlin did not know what to say; instead, she just reached out and held Abigail's hand. Abigail squeezed back and she began to cry. Kaitlin hugged the older girl until she fell back to sleep. Kaitlin wiped away her own tears and returned to her chair just as Cassie appeared.

"My watch," she said.

"Abigail woke up. She told me what happened to her. That bastard is going to fucking die – I'll fucking take him apart piece by fucking piece. . ."

"Take a ticket, pal!" Cassie replied darkly as she looked into the very dark and very dangerous eyes of a thoroughly pissed off _Predator_.

"I mean it, Cassie; this is no idle threat."

"I understand and we _will_ get him."

..._...

By breakfast, all the girls knew; Abigail having told them. The mood at Blairhoyle had turned distinctly cold and dark. Abigail was allowed into the kitchen to eat, but then she was packed off onto the sofa to watch TV.

"I'm sorry, to you all, for scaring everybody. I won't be doing anything like that again – it fucking hurt!" Abigail offered shyly.

"You want to talk – we're all here to listen," Harper said seriously.

"Thanks – I'm still getting used to having people around me that value me. I promise to talk before I do anything stupid."

"Maybe Kaitlin should follow that advice!" Naomi laughed for a moment before yelling out in pain. "Fucking ow!"

Kaitlin grinned innocently as her cousin rubbed her shoulder.

..._...

Abigail's outlook on life grew steadily that afternoon.

Everybody went out of their way to make her feel welcome and wanted. She spent time chatting with her four new friends, plus a quiet hour with Cassie and Keira. That evening, they all enjoyed a barbeque out in the garden – there were no knives in evidence, just forks. Abigail actually thought that the missing knives was funny in a warped, _Predator_ kind of way.

All five girls slept in the one bedroom, that night and after almost three hours of giggling, water fights, and generally rowdy behaviour, Cassie ordered them all to go to sleep or she would go get the Tasers out.

"She wouldn't," Abigail said.

"Oh, yeah," Kaitlin muttered. "Welcome to _our_ world!"


	19. Betrayal

**_Friday, September 2nd, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle, Scotland_**

It was like somebody had just dropped a slab of meat into a pool where a pair of sharks lurked.

In this case, Abigail was the slab of meat. Stephanie and Electra flew at the girl and she was rapidly kicked to the floor where she was kicked and punched viciously. Cassie and Keira waded in, along with Harper and Naomi. It took all four of them to subdue the raging Stephanie and Electra despite the former only having one fully-functional wing.

"What the fuck, Stephanie!" Keira demanded as she pinned the ten-year-old girl.

A bruised and battered Abigail, with blood visible on her face, was helped back to her feet by Kaitlin. Abigail's face was just as contorted and angry as the faces of Stephanie and Electra.

"Easy, Steph," Cassie declared. "This is Abigail."

"Oh, I know who the fuck _she_ is!" Stephanie growled. "I want to rip her fucking throat out, for a start. . ."

"That fucking whore gave me my goddamn scars," Electra growled just as menacingly. "She deserves to fucking die!"

"What!" Cassie exclaimed at the unexpected revelation – it was the first time that she had seen Electra in such a rage. "Is that true, Abigail – you slashed Electra and stabbed her?"

"Too damn right!" Abigail spat angrily. "That Yellow bitch stabbed me in the hand and then cut me with my own fucking knife. As for that bitch, Psyche; she took a leather strap to me and set me up to get raped."

Abigail bolted forwards and she attacked Stephanie. Her punch was nowhere near as strong as it used to be, thanks to her illness, but she was determined to make Psyche suffer. She kicked out and smiled as she heard growls of pain from her opponent, but just as she looked up into the furious face of Psyche, she paused and Abigail's own face was suddenly full of confusion. There was something about Psyche – her face, but more specifically, it was the eyes which had given her pause. Stephanie's gunmetal grey eyes were the very same as a set of brown ones that she was intimately familiar with. Her anger eased for a moment and then she smiled, surprising everybody.

"What the fuck are you smiling about, bitch?" Stephanie demanded in surprise as her opponent ceased her attack.

"I knew it – I fucking well knew it!" Abigail announced happily. "It was the eyes; your eyes are just like his."

"I . . . what?" Stephanie exclaimed, momentarily caught off guard by the comment.

..._...

Alexandra had stayed in the kitchen to brief an appalled Mindy on Abigail's situation while Stephanie had, quite naturally, followed the sounds of excited chattering to find the girls and the new _Predator_. Nobody had had the remotest worry about the meeting.

Now, Alexandra and Mindy both ran through to see what all the commotion was about.

"What the fuck is going on?" demanded an angry voice.

Everybody turned to see Mindy and Alexandra standing just a few feet away but nobody responded. Alexandra made for Abigail and began to examine her face. Mindy turned on Stephanie and Electra.

"My question still stands," Mindy growled and Stephanie wilted.

"It was my fault – I just attacked. Abigail and us . . . well, we have a history. . ." Stephanie tried to explain before she was interrupted by Abigail.

"I gave Electra her scars. It was during an _Urban Predator_ exercise – it was kill or be killed. We all did bad things to each other; I don't deserve. . ."

Abigail broke down into tears and she collapsed onto a chair. Stephanie and Electra just stood there, completely bewildered for a moment before Mindy seized hold of them both by the backs of their T-shirts and she hauled them into another room before spinning them both around to face her.

Mindy looked angrier than Stephanie had seen her in quite a while.

..._...

"Would either of you care to explain that disgusting behaviour?"

"Not really," Stephanie muttered.

"We were shocked to see her," Electra began. "She was the last person we expected to see – both of us wished she was long dead. It was an automatic reflex – one which I never knew that I had. I've never felt so strongly about wanting to kill somebody. It's a feeling that I have no idea how to control."

Mindy nodded.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Stephanie?"

Stephanie grimaced – full names meant trouble!

"I didn't mean to react like that, honest. Now I know how people feel when they meet _me_ again – they all want to rip my throat out."

"As do I, right now," Mindy growled.

"I apologise for embarrassing you, Mum," Stephanie offered with a look of hope.

Mindy just shook her head and left the room without another word. Stephanie and Electra followed.

..._...

"Are you alright, Abigail?" Mindy asked.

Abigail nodded as she threw virtual daggers at Stephanie and Electra with her eyes. Stephanie looked at Electra and the latter nodded.

"Abigail – can I call you Abigail?" Stephanie asked.

"It's my name."

"Can we talk – just the three of us?"

"You going to attack me again?"

"No – I promise," Stephanie replied as she looked up at Mindy who nodded.

Abigail breathed in deeply before she followed Stephanie and Electra into the other room – Stephanie closed the door, ominously. Then she reached out with her left hand and Abigail hesitantly grabbed hold of the hand with her own.

"I'm sorry," Stephanie said. "I just reacted; just like when we were back in Virginia. Please, come sit down and we can talk. Electra. . ."

"Hi, Abigail. We've never been properly introduced. I'm Electra."

"Good to meet you in better circumstances. You were a very brave little girl. You a _Predator_ now?"

"My little trip to Virginia got me promoted."

"Well, Electra, that little trip didn't go all that well for me," Abigail pointed out and Stephanie grimaced.

"That isn't who I am now, Abigail. Back then, I was a murderous bitch, doing everything that I could to stay alive and keep ahead of the bastard instructors. Now, I have protection. Now, I have somebody to look after me and I have no need to resort to violence just to survive. I promise you, Abigail, I am a very different person."

"I believe you."

"Can't say the same for Electra, here – she's changed a lot; not necessarily in a good way, neither," Stephanie grinned.

"I see me as new and improved," Electra commented.

Abigail looked over at Stephanie and both exchanged a glance.

"Because of who you are, Fury, and because I respect you for what you are, I am going to tolerate you and I am going to treat you as an equal. I won't say that we're going to be friends – not yet – but neither am I going to rip your head off," Stephanie explained.

"I can accept that, Psyche – I am not ready to see you as a friend, sorry, but I will not act against you again. Err, Electra – you have a codename?"

"Yeah – Steph gave it to me back in the woods of Virginia and it stuck: Rigour."

"Rigour? That suits you – not bad, Psyche!" Abigail said before she turned pensive. "You have a brother?"

Stephanie frowned and she looked very sad for a moment.

"I _had_ a brother – I killed him, along with my parents."

"Like hell, you did!" Abigail responded. "He's called Jamie, right, Jamie Reeman?"

Stephanie nodded, struggling to understand what she was being told – was it a cruel trick? But how could she know?"

"Well, Jamie Carter as he is right now."

Stephanie bolted up from her chair and made for the other room and Mindy.

..._...

"Abigail says that my brother may still be alive – is that actually possible?"

Mindy looked stunned but not surprised which concerned Stephanie but she had no idea why.

"When did you last see him?" Stephanie asked Abigail who had followed Stephanie out of curiosity.

"I can't remember – I think it was a . . . I don't know."

" _Where_ did you last see him?" Stephanie persisted.

"Is this the boy?" Mindy interrupted, passing a tablet over to Abigail.

Abigail studied the picture.

"He's older now, but the eyes, they are unmistakable."

Stephanie looked stunned as she grabbed the tablet and she began to scroll.

"You had his _Predator_ file? You _knew_ that my brother was alive? You _knew_ that he became a _Predator_ , like me? You _knew_ that I didn't kill him? HOW COULD YOU?" Stephanie demanded – every question increasing in volume and anger until she was shouting.

"We had no confirmation that he was actually still alive. Yes, we knew that you didn't kill him. Yes, we knew that he became a _Predator_ , like you."

Mindy felt really, really bad about having kept that crucial piece of information about Stephanie's brother, hidden, but it had been for good reason. Stephanie glared up at her mother and mentor.

"I really want to punch you, right now. I want to make you bleed. I want to make you suffer. But . . . but, I love you too much, Mum. However, you've just driven a knife into my gut and fucking twisted it. I am _so_ mad at you. . ."

Mindy felt devastated.

"I know that you won't believe me, but I didn't do it because I am cold-hearted; I did it out of love – out of love for you."

"How?" Stephanie demanded as she continued to glare up at Mindy, tears of frustration and hurt running down her face.

"What if we had not been able to find him, or he had died?" Mindy tried. "I've seen what having somebody die twice does to a person . . . ask Chloe – and I did not want that for my little girl."

"I'm _not_ your little girl. . ." Stephanie replied angrily, almost out of reflex and Cassie saw the hurt in Mindy's eyes. Stephanie saw it too and she instantly recanted her comment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. . ."

"Stephanie, I . . ."

"Please, Mindy – just give me some space."

Mindy watched as her daughter walked out of the room without even a backwards glance.

"I'm going for a walk," Mindy stated as headed out the door into the garden.

* * *

 ** _That same time_**

 ** _Chicago, Illinois  
The United States of America_**

Chloe picked up her cell and then looked at the name – she smiled.

"Hi, Steph – you looking for Josh?"

 _"No . . . I need to speak to you – please."_

"Please? What's up, Steph?"

 _"Mindy and I have had a major falling out and I need some questions answered."_

"What about?"

 _"I've just discovered that my brother may still be alive – at least, I found out that I didn't shoot him in the head when he was five. . ."_

"Wow! That's amazing news," Chloe replied.

 _"Yeah – only, I then found out that Mindy was aware of that fact, back in May. She betrayed me."_

"Now hold on, Steph – Mindy would _never_ betray you."

 _"But she has – how dare she withhold information like that! She says she did it out of love – bullshit, if you ask me."_

"Stephanie – you lost your brother once. How would you feel if you found out he was alive and then you ultimately found that he had died?"

 _"That's what Mindy said – lame; she told me to ask you about that very subject."_

Chloe took a deep breath before she replied, knowing that she was opening old wounds.

"Stephanie – I will not sit here and let you insult my best friend. I will help you, but I will not listen to you pouring abuse on Mindy, understand?"

 _"Sorry – I'm just wound up."_

"I know – that's allowed . . . to a point. Years ago, I thought Joshua was dead – his death hit me very hard and directly resulted in me becoming Shadow, as you know. Then, out of the blue, I found out he was alive – I had never felt _so_ happy. But, just a few days later, I thought he had died protecting me. I was all but inconsolable. Mindy did her best as I cried on her shoulder, but you know what Mindy is like with emotions. I felt broken – for the second time. Believe me, Stephanie, you do not want to go through that."

 _"I suppose not. Thank you – you've given me a lot to think about. Sorry for being bitchy about Mindy."_

"Any time, Stephanie – me and Josh will always be here for you."

 _"Thanks."_

Stephanie hung up.

..._...

Several miles away, another cell phone rang.

"Hi, Steph."

 _"Hi."_

"Something's wrong. . ." SD replied.

 _"You can always tell, can't you?"_

"I know you, Stephanie – I researched the fuck out of you, so I could kill you."

 _"Yeah – creepy!"_

"Talk to me, Steph."

 _"I just found out that my little brother might still be alive and that the woman who called herself my mother has known about him since May. She betrayed me, SD."_

Saoirse was genuinely shocked by her best friend's declaration. Ever since Stephanie had been shot, she and Mindy had bonded to an unthought of level. Saoirse had talked with Marcus and he had candidly explained that he was surprised to see Mindy relating to somebody so well and showing previously unseen emotions. Stephanie too had openly told her friend that Mindy was the best thing that had ever happened to her and that without Mindy, she would never have got through those weeks in hospital. Stephanie loved Mindy more than anything, so for her to say what she was, was very bad indeed.

"Stephanie, I think you're overreacting – Mindy would _never_ betray you; she loves you dearly."

 _"Maybe she does, but she had no right to hide my brother from me. She had NO FUCKING RIGHT!"_

Saoirse sighed as she held the phone away from her ear. Some tough love was required.

"Stephanie – have you stopped to think this through? Have you stopped to talk to Mindy, like mother and daughter? Did you go off half-cocked and tell her where to go? Did you tell the woman who sat sobbing in the ER for hours over your fucking broken body that she had betrayed you?"

 _"Maybe. . ."_

"You are one ungrateful little bitch, Stephanie Lizewski!"

 _"Thanks, SD."_

Saoirse was left staring at the disconnected phone.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle, Scotland_**

Stephanie ran back into the living room.

"Where's my Mum?"

Cassie just pointed down the garden. Stephanie dashed out the door and sprinted down the garden, her eyes searching for Mindy. By the time, Stephanie had reached the bottom of the paddock, she was worried – she had to find Mindy, but where was she? Stephanie ran east along the bottom paddock.

"Mum!" she called out desperately.

Then she saw movement over by the trees and ran in that direction. She found Mindy sitting on the ground, glaring morosely into the distance. Stephanie sank down and squirmed in between Mindy's legs, resting her head on Mindy's chest.

"Mum . . . I'm really sorry about what I said. I should never have said those things to you."

"You were right, Steph – I let you down."

"No – you did the right thing. I spoke with Chloe and then SD . . . both said I was stupid and I trust them both. I know you had your reasons and while I don't agree with them entirely, you are the adult and I am your daughter. I trust you to make the right decisions on my behalf. Will you let me be your little girl again?"

"Always, Stephanie. I know I'm not your mother, your real mother, and nobody could ever replace her," Mindy replied gently. "I'm doing the best I can and I apologise if I don't live up to your standards as a mother."

"I know – but you've been more of a mother to me than anybody has over the past year and you've brought me into your family and into your heart – I can only love you for doing that. Yes, in hindsight, I would not have wanted to have my brother die for a second time – the first time was hard enough. Now, I am just thankful that I only murdered my parents and not my little brother, too."

"I can never understand fully what you have been through, my little one, but I am here to help you get through your life. I love you very, very much, Stephanie, and nothing will ever change that."

"Thanks, for being there and helping me through everything. Saoirse said I was an ungrateful bitch and she was right. I never know when to keep my goddamn mouth shut."

"It's called growing up, honey."

"I know – it sucks, big time."

Stephanie squirmed a little more so that she could wrap her arms around Mindy and she squeezed.

"I love you very much, Mindy, and I am eternally grateful for everything that you do on my behalf."

..._...

Mindy and Stephanie returned to the house and Stephanie felt a little sheepish as she entered. All eyes were on her as she sat down with Mindy.

"So, you two haven't killed each other, yet?" Cassie grinned.

"We've sorted out our differences," Mindy confirmed.

"I was being an ungrateful bitch," Stephanie added.

"As usual. . ." Electra muttered.

"What have I said, 'Lectra!" Stephanie cautioned.

Electra grinned and Stephanie scowled.

"So, who did I kill, if I didn't kill Jamie?" she asked.

"Probably some poor Yellow," Electra said darkly.

"Mayfair," Abigail suddenly stated. "I last saw them in Mayfair."

"What did you say?" Stephanie asked.

"Jamie and Shannon. I remember now – it was a house in Mayfair; they were living there."

Mindy looked over at Cassie and Keira.

"We can launch in two or three hours," Keira stated as she pulled out her mobile to call the Chief.

* * *

 ** _VAS Thunderbolt_**

It was the first time for Stephanie and Abigail.

"This place is pretty cool," Abigail said.

"She's a sweet ride," Keira commented as she completed her pre-flight checks on _Twilight_.

"It better be," Stephanie laughed. "I don't want to see Abigail's breakfast!"

"Just so long as you keep your own breakfast to yourself," Abigail retorted.

"Do I need to shoot you both before we even board?" Mindy growled as she waved a bright-yellow Taser in their direction.

"Nah – we're fine," Stephanie replied with an innocent smile. "Let's go find our seats, Abigail."

..._...

The flight was smooth as _Twilight_ cut through the skies over the eastern counties of England. Cassie sat in the co-pilot's seat while Mindy sat in the back opposite the two girls.

"We're not going to start fighting, okay?" Stephanie tried for the umpteenth time.

Mindy smirked as she enjoyed her little game of intimidation.

"You know she's just trying to wind you up, don't you?" Abigail laughed as she rolled her eyes.

"Of course, I did," Stephanie retorted.

"Bullshit!" Abigail countered.

* * *

 ** _London_**

Commander Lawrence was on hand at the heliport with a car for them to borrow. Keira stayed with the helicopter while Cassie and Mindy headed into the city with Stephanie and Abigail. Cassie drove, much to Mindy's annoyance.

"I'm sorry, Mindy, but we all want to survive this drive!" Cassie laughed.

Mindy just fumed in the front passenger seat.

"Isn't that where you rode your motorcycle across the bonnet of a Police X5?" Stephanie queried.

"Fuck off!" Mindy growled.

Cassie chuckled and she ignored the angry glare from beside her. It wasn't long before they stopped where Abigail indicated.

"That house?" Mindy demanded.

"Yes, that house."

"You absolutely sure?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely bloody sure!"

"That house belongs to Cameron and Natasha," Mindy explained as she and Cassie climbed out of the vehicle. "You two stay."

"Mindy. . ." Stephanie began.

"Stay!"

"Woof!" Stephanie barked obediently.

..._...

Stephanie watched as Mindy and Cassie drew their weapons before they headed inside the building. They were gone long enough that Stephanie began to consider going after them. Even Abigail was on the edge of her seat as she watched the house. Then, finally, after twenty minutes, Mindy reappeared with her pistol holstered and her face grim.

"He's dead," Abigail stated.

"Don't say that, please," Stephanie said as she climbed out to face Mindy who looked miserable.

"I'm sorry, Steph – there's nothing but bullet holes."

Stephanie bolted into the house, closely followed by Abigail.

"Jamie!"

"Jamie!"

"Jamie!"

"Jamie!"

The name echoed around the building as the two girls searched frantically. While Cassie stood guard, Mindy headed back inside. She found the two girls upstairs in one of the bedrooms. Stephanie was sitting on a bed. In her hands were a T-shirt and a sweatshirt. Both depicted a scene from Star Wars on the front. Both items of clothing were also child-sized.

"Jamie loved Star Wars," Stephanie said quietly. "Drove me round the bend with it. He would attack me with his toy lightsabre."

"Gather everything – we take it with us; I don't want to leave anything for the Police."

It didn't take long to gather the few personal belongings and items of clothing that obviously belonged to Jamie and the girl, Shannon. When done, Mindy carried the holdall downstairs and out to the car. Just as she had closed the boot, a voice called out.

"Armed Police, don't move!"

..._...

They all froze.

"Keep your hands where we can see them!"

All four of them were pushed up against the wall of the house by a Police officer armed with an automatic weapon.

"Are you armed?"

"Yes," Mindy replied. "We have ID."

"Show it."

Cassie, Mindy, and Stephanie each reached for their identification, very slowly. An officer seized the three ID cards and a minute later a different voice spoke from close behind them.

"Now, what might the CIA and MI5 be doing here? Another question would be why a little girl has an MI5 ID; care to explain, anybody?"

"A very long story that you are not cleared for," Mindy explained.

"You may turn around and lower your hands, but no sudden moves, please."

They all turned to see that the armed Police officers had lowered their weapons and were covering the immediate area rather than the four of them. Only two people appeared interested in them, a tall older man and a slightly shorter, younger woman. The man wore a dark suit with a dark blue tie. The balding man was in his late fifties and he wore glasses. His beard was white and his face bore a worn expression as he studied Mindy.

"Commander Patrick Haig, SO15, and this is Sergeant Stefanie Woodward. Shall we talk inside?"

..._...

The woman was dressed in a dark-coloured trouser suit and she had a professional air about her. Her eyes darted from Mindy to Cassie and then to the two girls as they all walked back inside the property. She handed back their ID cards once they were inside.

"We've been watching this building for two days – ever since a gun fight was reported, two nights ago. We hoped that somebody might return to give us a lead. Lo and behold, you lot appeared," Woodward explained after a nod from her boss.

"What might Counter Terrorism Command be wanting with what looks like a gang shooting," Cassie enquired.

Commander Haig laughed.

"I have had a lot on my plate over the past few weeks. A double murder, perpetrated by somebody with immense skill – they interrogated and tortured the victims prior to dispatching each one with a single gunshot to the head. No witnesses and no sounds of gunfire, just two very dead young women, one of whom was a drug mule who has links to a shady organisation called Scorpio. That organisation in turn has links to weapons trafficking among other things."

"Why are you telling us this?" Mindy asked.

"Because I think that you can help me."

* * *

 ** _Twilight_**

"Did you believe him?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes – he appeared genuine," Mindy replied. "You may have noticed that he did not detain us."

"Yeah – that was weird," Abigail pointed out.

"We have some good intel and we will act upon it."

"I hope he's okay," Abigail almost whispered.

"He will be – he's my brother," Stephanie offered reassuringly.


	20. HRH

She was almost fourteen-years-old and she was both a rarity and a curiosity at her school, despite her having been there for going on two years.

Unlike most girls her age, she also had a minder. That was a big part of her young life that she hated. She had plenty of friends at the school but she also enjoyed 'escaping' into the _real_ world; much to the chagrin of her Personal Protection Officer.

So, why did she have a PPO? The primary reason was because of who her grandmother was, who her father was, and who she was. Her father was Robert, twin brother to Edward. Their mother was Her Majesty The Queen, making them in turn: Prince Robert, Duke of Kintyre and Lorne and Prince Edward, Earl of Wessex. Therefore, the thirteen-year-old's full title was: Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of Kintyre and Lorne. Or more simply: Mary Alexandra Anne Mountbatten-Windsor. Quite a mouthful, either way! As a result, most of her friends called her Mary, or more simply, 'H'.

Yes, she was royalty and therefore she had protection, twenty-four-hours a day, seven days a week.

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace  
London, England_**

She was fed up with the constant intrusion into her personal life.

Somebody was almost always watching her. It had never really bothered her until she turned twelve and she started to get creeped out by all the cameras, the police officers, the protocol. Her favourite pastime was crime. Reading _about_ crime – not committing crime! She was also entranced by the goings on in Chicago. She loved reading about Hit Girl and Kick-Ass as they fought crime in Chicago with _Fusion_. She often dreamt of being a vigilante and she so desperately wanted to visit Chicago to see them in action.

Then something wonderful happened, not a million miles from where she went to school in Scotland. _Vengeance_ had appeared on the streets of Glasgow. That had clinched it – she wanted to become a vigilante and ultimately, she wanted to become a _Vengeance_ vigilante. There was a catch to her plans – she could not go _anywhere_ without her PPO. Even going for a wee entailed somebody loitering just in case the toilet paper should choose to attack her while she had her knickers around her ankles!

Her succession of Personal Protection Officers had taught her many skills since she was about four-years-old. She knew how to protect herself and she held a red belt in Taekwondo. When she was eight, she had mastered firing a pistol and a rifle. Her father was determined that she should be able to defend herself should something bad occur. Her current PPO was Sergeant Ginny Turner. Mary thought that Ginny was the best PPO ever!

Ginny was thirty-years-old and a career protection officer. She had served for six years in the Diplomatic Protection Group (SO6) until the amalgamation of several protection departments into Protection Command. She had transferred from Parliamentary and Diplomatic Protection (PaDP) to Royalty and Specialist Protection (RaSP). After a year running around after some very minor royals, she had been offered the task of chaperoning the petulant daughter of Prince Robert. The two had been introduced and they had hit it off almost immediately.

Thereafter, Ginny had spent two fun-filled years running around after a young girl just entering her teenaged years.

* * *

 ** _Saturday, September 3rd, 2016_**

She should have been at her boarding school, up in Scotland, but instead, she was at some 'function'.

Functions meant boringly stiff pomp and circumstance which drove her around the bend. Oh, she enjoyed the fancy dresses and having her hair put up, but it was all _so_ boring – curtseying and smiling sweetly for total strangers. She hated people calling her 'sweet' and 'cute' – that was for when she was a little girl, not for teenagers!

There came a knock on the door of her bedroom where she was getting ready.

"What?" she called out impatiently.

"Security sweep, ma'am," came the reply from the other side of the door.

Functions meant _additional_ security which also drove Mary up the wall and down the other side.

"Okay!" she growled.

The young man in a suit entered and he began his walk around her bedroom, checking that the windows were sealed tight and that nobody was hiding under the bed or behind her toothbrush.

Mary held an object up in the air.

"Maybe you'd like to check my tampon before I stick it up my vagina – just in case somebody put a bullet in it!"

The young police officer coloured and bolted for the door.

" _Mary!_ " came a disapproving growl.

Ginny walked in the door, an angry glare on her face and aimed squarely at Mary. Not very many people were able to tell the Royal Princess what to do, or tell her off – but Ginny was one of them and Mary had a lot of respect for Ginny and as such, she hated getting into trouble.

"Sorry – I . . ."

"I know you hate all the pomp, but your father enjoys your support. You've done it before – you'll be fine."

"I'll be a disaster!"

"Go put your tampon in and let's get going before the ambassador arrives," Ginny suggested with a grin as her charge's cheeks went pink and the youngster fled into the bathroom.

..._...

Ginny smiled and she shook her head. Mary was full of spirit and she could be a loving young girl, but she could also be a tomboy which usually resulted in her getting into a lot of trouble. Mary thought that nobody knew about her night time excursions outside the Palace but Ginny was wise to everything that her charge did – that was her job and she was very good at it. Mary was streetwise, despite her privileged upbringing and Ginny had done everything that she could to help the girl by training her discreetly in various topics which included self-defence and some thinly disguised offensive actions.

Ginny had long decided that if she had tried to stop Mary, then Mary was strong-willed enough to have just gone ahead behind Ginny's back, exposing herself to even more danger. Clandestine support was the name of the game.

"You plugged up, yet?" Ginny called out.

"Can't a girl stick things in her vagina without the whole damn world knowing?" came the angry response.

"My daughter causing a ruckus, as usual, Sergeant?"

"Mary is rebelling in her own way, your Highness," Ginny replied after a brief curtsey in deference to her charge's father, Prince Robert.

"So, I hear!" the Prince chuckled as his daughter appeared.

Mary stopped dead as she saw her father, her cheeks going from pink to red.

"You didn't hear that, did you, Daddy?"

"A young lady should be a little more conservative about her nether regions, eh, Mary?"

"Yes, Daddy. . ."

The very embarrassed Mary grabbed Ginny by the arm and hustled her out of the bedroom while her father just chuckled as he followed his wayward daughter and her protector.

..._...

It was a small gathering – just twelve not so not-so-close companions.

"Announcing, His Excellency George Hamworth, United States Ambassador to the United Kingdom.

"Mr Ambassador, His Royal Highness Prince Robert, Duke of Kintyre and Lorne."

"Your Royal Highness, may I present my wife, Elizabeth."

"Good evening, ma'am," Prince Robert replied with a nod as the lady curtseyed. "May I introduce, my daughter, Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of Kintyre and Lorne."

Mary curtseyed just as she had been taught almost since the moment she could walk. She hated it, but she would do anything for her father, so she made him proud by being his little girl.

Next came the dinner with exquisitely arranged place settings – another thing which had been taught to a very young Princess Mary. The layout often confused the unwary and those not accustomed to fancy dining. Arrayed before the thirteen-year-old were ten items of silver cutlery, four crystal glasses and two plates. Of the four glasses, Mary had ever only used the one. Due to her age, the glasses intended for the red wine, white wine, and the champagne were strictly off limits, even if they were filled. Mary was limited to making use of the water glass only, which was sometimes filled with a cordial of some description, often lemon.

As for the cutlery, she had an arsenal at her disposal for the often six-course (or more) meal. That evening, they began with seafood, before moving onto soup, a fish course, and then the main dinner with a side-salad. Bread and butter was also provided. There were times that Mary was amazed she did not weigh thirty stone! Finally, there would be pudding followed by coffee and maybe a good cognac, neither of which Mary would partake of. During the entire meal, Ginny would be standing three feet away, watching everybody like a hawk, ready to gun down anybody who interfered with her principal, her protectee.

Naturally, Mary's father had his own protection detail – three men who followed him everywhere, not to mention his equerry, a mid-ranking Royal Navy officer. The visitors also trailed their own security contingent. The American Ambassador had three Secret Service men, complete with dark glasses, attempting to blend into the surroundings – but failing miserably. Outside, there would be the ubiquitous monster armoured suburban ready to whisk the important man and his wife to safety should somebody get a little drunk and attempt to stab the Ambassador with a butter knife.

Mary enjoyed the food – it was always the best. Often, the chef would produce a special plate which would look just like those placed before the adults, but consisting of items much more befitting a youngster. It was not unknown for her to be eating a cheese burger, reduced to its constituent components, while the adults chomped away on some fancy dish. The meal would otherwise be very boring, mainly due to the fact that she was a child and usually the adults would ignore her completely in the traditional, but old-fashioned, 'children should be seen but not heard' euphemism. However, Mary's ears perked up that evening as she heard the Ambassador bring up the subject of _Vengeance_.

"We've been hearing a lot about the vigilantes that you have in Scotland, Your Highness. They appear to be very similar to our own, Hit Girl, in Chicago," the Ambassador said.

"I have been briefed on them, but I am strictly neutral in such affairs and I can neither condone, nor deny what they do. I will admit, off the record, that they appear to have the support of the populous as they target some very undesirable people," the Prince replied.

"It is a very strange world in which we live in, where we allow masked vigilantes to use violent and often murderous methods to remove people who could just as well be dealt with by the police and the courts," the Ambassador replied.

Mary had a growing dislike for the American. He obviously disapproved of _Vengeance_ and, she assumed, _Fusion_. That also meant that he disapproved of her.

"You have something to add to our conversation, Mary?" her father asked as he recognised her annoyed expression.

Mary started, unused to being drawn into conversations between the adults.

"I . . . I don't really have anything to add. I am merely a young girl who has no interest in such activities," she replied in what she figured was a very diplomatic and neutral response.

Her father chuckled, not fooled for a moment.

"Your Royal Highness, I am sure that a young lady, such as yourself, is much more intelligent that you are letting on," the Ambassador offered.

Mary blushed and she took a deep breath before replying.

"Thank you, sir. I think that what _Vengeance_ and _Fusion_ do in their respective countries is of key importance. They take down people who the authorities are unable to touch. They take over where the police and courts stop. I will agree that, at times, they can get very violent and people die. However, I also believe that if you take on the likes of _Vengeance_ and _Fusion_ , then you should expect to suffer the consequences. If you don't want to die at the hands of Hit Girl, or Nemesis (my personal favourite, by the way), then criminals should hand themselves into the police for their own protection. The police should only protect them if they spill everything and confess their crimes in exchange for that protection."

Mary felt her cheeks warming up as everybody stared at her.

"Well reasoned, Mary," her father said with a smile.

"Definitely a controversial view," the Ambassador said. "It was also a very intelligent and well thought out view, your Royal Highness. There are many who would agree with every word of it, however, I am not one."

"Thank you, sir, I hope I did not speak out of turn."

"Not at all. You are just showing that despite your tender years, you are a very intelligent young woman who is attuned to what is going on in her own country. Your father must be very proud of his daughter."

Maybe the arsehole wasn't as bad as she had originally thought, Mary figured. Her father beamed down at his daughter, full of pride for her intelligent remarks.

"Thank you, your Excellency. Indeed, I am very proud of my young daughter. She is maturing fast and she is developing her own views on what she sees going on around her," Prince Robert said with a wink towards Mary.

..._...

Once the adults had retired to another room for cognac, Mary was free to return to her bedroom and quite literally let her hair down.

"You did well, Mary," Ginny commented as she followed her charge up the stairs.

"Thanks – I'm not used to joining in with the conversation."

"You're growing up, honey, and you have some remarkably mature views on the world."

Mary blushed and she gave her protector a hug.

"Thanks, Ginny."

Mary felt drained as she sat on the end of her bed. Ginny helped her to remove the dress which while expensive was not all that comfortable to wear. Next came the hair, which Ginny unpicked so that it hung naturally over Mary's shoulders. It was late, approaching ten o'clock.

"Get into your nightie and into bed, honey. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Ginny – love you."

"Love you too, honey. Night."

* * *

 ** _The Dollar Academy  
Scotland_**

The return to school was a non-event.

The 'Ooh, a Princess' thing had long passed and she was generally treated like any other girl at the school. Her best friend was a girl the same age, called Leia. She occupied the bedsit next door to Mary. She and Mary had become good friends almost from the moment they had met. Crucially for Mary, they had become friends before Leia had found out who Mary's grandmother was. . . That had resulted in almost two weeks of Leia bursting into giggles whenever she saw Mary. After a lot of shouting, from Mary, Leia had come to her senses and their friendship had resumed. To Mary, those had been a very embarrassing two weeks.

Mary usually went out of her way to be invisible. She hated being singled out for anything and worst of all, she hated anybody drawing attention to her lineage. Yes, there were a few bitches who tried to suck up to her, or just bully her – although bullying was nigh impossible with the omnipresent Ginny. The Protection Officer was also very skilled at becoming invisible. She was known about campus and the teaching body allowed her full access to everywhere and unrestricted access to Mary at all times. Indeed, one male supply teacher made the mistake of refusing Ginny entry into the classroom where Mary was studying – he quickly became very well acquainted with the nearest wall and he was never seen at the school again.

Everybody was aware that Sergeant Turner was armed with a pistol and a billy club as a minimum. The other kids at the school mostly had no issues with Sergeant Turner. The girls generally saw her as a positive role model and empowering the female gender. As for the boys at the school, they definitely had _no_ problem with a beautiful woman 'packing heat', as one teenage boy had eloquently termed it. Indeed, many a boy would while away the night-time hours dreaming of Sergeant Turner and her pistol while they masturbated their lives away.

Ginny lived on the campus, in the same building as some of the teachers. Her role was full time, but while at a Palace, other security personnel would take over once her charge was in bed. At the school, Ginny had no other backup and she would have to be on hand should an incident occur. Her accommodation was quite literally yards from where Mary lived. It would take less than a minute for Ginny to be at Mary's side ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for the girl and her family.

..._...

Mary had started to sneak out at night, when she was twelve – just a few short weeks before she was to become a teenager. The Palace had ceased to provide the relevant distractions that an almost teenager needed. Mary wanted a thrill, something that would really excite her. The girl rarely got into any major trouble – there really was not much to do around a Palace; they were not exactly designed with children in mind and definitely _not_ modern children.

When she was six, Mary had received the wrath of her father for the first time ever when she had attempted to take a pistol out of a police officer's holster. She had been forced to apologise to the officer who had then quietly talked to the girl about firearms safety and how a pistol worked. It had been her father's idea to stop firearms being seen as a temptation. His rational was that if she knew all about them, then her fascination would wane. A nice idea in theory, but it appeared to work, at least from the outside.

One night, she had managed to elude the roving foot patrols in the corridors of the Palace – and the cameras – before carefully slipping outside and spending a good two hours running around the darkened gardens. Mary also saw the temporary escape as a form of rebelling that could not hurt anybody. Two nights later, she had repeated her previous feat, improving her method of escape as she went. After those two experimental operations, Mary was able to 'escape' whenever she wished without anybody being any the wiser.

She was not stupid. She knew that one day, she would be found out. But until that time, she was going to enjoy herself as much as was humanly possible for a young Princess.


	21. The Search Begins

All available assets were going into tracking down Jamie and Shannon.

Q and Hal spent many hours setting up facial-recognition routines to attempt to spot the youngsters, however, all they had were out of date _Urban Predator_ photographs to go on. With the assistance of Wayne Enterprises and Lucius Fox, they had managed to create a suitable algorithm with which to scan London's thousands, upon thousands of cameras.

While that went ahead, _Vengeance_ trained and trained.

* * *

 ** _Tuesday, September 6th, 2016_**

 ** _Vengeance Training Facility  
Scotland_**

"When, are we going to get out there and kick some butt?" Kaitlin demanded one afternoon after school.

"There is much more to being a vigilante than going out and kicking butt," Natasha reasoned.

"Not as far as I can see," Kaitlin pointed out.

"Exactly."

"Am I missing something?"

"Yes, young lady, you are – you may be a _Predator_ , but you are not ready to put on a combat suit and then go out into the big bad world," Natasha replied.

"I'm not scared. I can handle anything. I killed three men the other day, remember!"

"Honey, you are very brave, and I applaud you for it. But you are not ready – neither are Naomi and Harper. Abigail and Electra are readier than you are, Kaitlin. They've seen the harsh side of real life. You've seen what happened to Abigail and she is a very skilled _Predator_ ; much more highly skilled than yourself."

"I know, Nats – it's just that I hate sitting around when we could be doing something."

Handling frustration was not one of Kaitlin's better skills.

..._...

"Okay – I want to see some sparring, please. Harper, you partner with Craig. Kaitlin, you partner with Electra. Abigail, you will face Naomi," Cameron directed.

The six kids moved out and each pair found a suitable space on the mat. The sparring began, with Cameron and Natasha monitoring and acting as referees where necessary. Harper and Craig were doing well and it was quickly apparent that Craig held no qualms when it came to striking a female, let alone a young girl three or so years younger than himself. Harper was a little surprised to receive the first strike on her body, expecting Craig to be wary about striking a young girl. Nevertheless, Harper got over her unwelcome surprise and she fought well against the bigger _Predator_. Kaitlin and Electra were perfectly matched as they were each of comparable size and skill, despite there being a year and a half difference in age between them with Electra being older. Naomi was a good match for Naomi as they were both highly skilled, but Abigail was still suffering the effects of her medication, so her reactions were still a little off.

Cameron had no idea what had started it, but about ten minutes after the sparring had begun, there was a yell and then when he turned around, Abigail and Electra were quite literally kicking hell out of one another. Abigail was still a little weak, and that was obviously giving the younger, less experienced Electra an edge. The fierceness and the ferocity behind the fight was astounding. Cameron had never witnessed a true _Predator_ on _Predator_ fight, but he figured that what he was witnessing was just that.

Naomi attempted to intervene, but she received a punch to her jaw, putting her on her back. Kaitlin tried but failed, rubbing her own side where someone had kicked her. Craig was knocked down by Naomi so he failed to intercept Electra as was his intention. Abigail and Electra were not letting up as they fought and it was no simple sparring match either. The strikes were hard and very real. The anger in their eyes was very, very real. Abigail had blood on her face from a small cut below her right eye. Her nose was bleeding too, but she paid the blood no heed as she struck back at the younger girl with hatred etched on her face.

Electra, in turn, had blood streaming from her nose and a cut on her forehead. She was unrelenting in her fighting, ducking under Abigail's punches and sidestepping the kicks. Electra was a very agile little girl and she used every advantage that she could muster. But the fight had to stop before somebody was hurt badly - or worse. Cameron and Natasha waded in, each grabbing a struggling Predator who fought bitterly to get free and re-enter the fight.

"Let me go!" Electra growled as she punched Cameron in the face with her left fist. "I want to kill her!"

"Stop it, Electra!" Cameron hissed in the young girl's ear. "I am not letting you . . . ah . . . go."

Electra punched him again, catching him in the eye and simultaneously kicking his legs. Natasha wasn't faring much better as Abigail wriggled and twisted as she tried to escape the iron grip on her. Her legs kicked out and her feet caught Natasha. Her fists struck wherever they could find something to strike.

"Drop them!" Keira yelled out as she and Cassie appeared in the space.

Cameron and Natasha did as they were directed, throwing the two girls onto the mat. Abigail and Electra jumped back to their feet and they attempted to attack one another, but before either girl could move, thin copper wires flew towards them and the razor-sharp barbs at the tips dug into their clothing and through to their skin. Then 50,000 volts at half a milliamp coursed through the wires, contracting the girl's muscles and sending them both onto the mat, convulsing with the electric charge. Keira and Cassie quickly disengaged the Tasers. Both girls were then rolled onto their fronts and they were both restrained with rigid handcuffs.

"What the hell's going on?" Abigail demanded in a panic as she began to recover the use of her muscles.

"Lie still, honey," Cassie said as she tried to keep the girl calm. "You've just had a bad experience."

Electra was stirring. After a minute, her eyes opened and she began to struggle against the handcuffs in a similar panic to Abigail. Both girls were totally disorientated and neither knew what was going on.

"You've both just been Tasered," Cameron explained. "Lie still until the effects pass and then we'll talk about what happened."

"Release me!" Abigail growled.

"No," Cassie explained. "It's for your own safety."

..._...

After a few minutes, both girls were helped to their feet and they were each escorted to separate holding rooms where they were sat down with the handcuffs remaining in place. Cameron sat with Abigail while Natasha stayed with Electra. Cassie and Keira spoke with the stunned Harper, Naomi, and Kaitlin who were all understandably worried for their friends.

"What in the fuck happened?" Harper demanded.

"I honestly don't know," Keira replied. "Some relapse. Something must have set them off – they both have a bad history with one another, remember."

"Still," Naomi commented. "They tried to kill each other."

"Yes – we saw two very angry _Predators_. It isn't their fault. . ." Cassie said.

"We each have demons inside us and none of us knows when we'll snap – I should know," Kaitlin stated darkly.

Cassie then left the young girls to go check out Abigail and Electra. She cleaned their wounds and wiped away as much of the blood as she could. Both girls were very miserable and both were distinctly unhappy by the turn of events. Cameron turned to Abigail once Cassie had finished treating her wounds.

"Abigail, I am going to lock you in . . ."

"No!"

"I have to. We need to talk about what happened and it is for your own safety as well as for everybody else's."

"I'm not a threat," Abigail tried, tears running down her face. "Please don't leave me alone."

"Someone will be back in a few minutes – hang in there, Abigail."

"NO!" Abigail screamed as Cameron left the room and pulled the door closed behind him – it latched automatically.

He could hear Abigail kicking the door – she could not strike the door with her fists as they were still secure behind her back. He felt really bad about leaving her, but he had to. Eric was watching both girls via the CCTV, so no harm would come to them. He saw the aggrieved face of his twin sister as she pulled the door shut on a screaming Electra.

"I hated doing that," Natasha said as they sat down at a table with Cassie and Keira.

"Me too, but sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind," Cameron admitted.

"What do we do with them?" Cassie asked, clearly distressed by what she had witnessed.

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like it. I saw them both bang into each other, during the sparring – maybe that was the spark that set them off," Keira commented.

"They do have unfinished business, those two," Natasha admitted. "I think we should talk to Mindy – we are _way_ out of our league, here."

"What about the girls; we can't keep them cuffed and locked up," Cameron pointed out.

..._...

Abigail looked up at the door with very red eyes and with dried tears on her cheeks. Harper smiled at her as she entered the room. The door clicked ominously closed behind her. Abigail hung her head, ashamed by her actions. But she had no idea how, or why, she had acted in that way against Electra who she saw as her friend – even if they were not actual friends.

"Turn around," Harper ordered.

Abigail did as she was instructed and Harper unlocked then removed the handcuffs.

"Better?" Harper asked.

"Much – thanks," Abigail replied as she rubbed her wrists and flexed her arms. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Well, for now, I am going to sit with you and we can talk, or do nothing – I leave that up to you. I'm just want to be here for you."

"That did not answer my question, but thanks for being here and thanks for removing the cuffs."

"You are not our prisoner, Abigail – you just scared the fuck out of everybody. As to what is going to happen to you – I honestly have no idea, sorry."

"That's okay – just you being here is good," Abigail said with a forced smile. "I've really fucked up, haven't I?"

"Yes, Abigail – that was really bad. Why did you do it?"

"I have no idea – Electra was supposed to be my friend. Somehow, we started fighting and I saw red . . . I wanted to kill her. It was like I was back in Virginia."

..._...

In the next door holding room, Naomi was sitting with Electra who was very pleased to be out of the handcuffs. She also had no idea what had possessed her to behave in the way that she had. It had scared her.

"I don't know what happened, Naomi."

"It was shocking – I've seen _Predator_ v _Predator_ fights before, but wow!"

Electra grimaced.

"I'm not proud of what I did – I like Abigail. I know we have a bad history, but she didn't hurt me all that time ago because she wanted to; she had no choice."

Electra felt so low, lower than she had in weeks. Finding out that Stephanie was still alive, and even better, seeing her again, had been a high for her. Meeting other _Predators_ had also been amazing and she had felt _so_ happy.

"Are you going to get rid of me?"

"No way!" Naomi exclaimed. "Don't you dare even think it!"

"Why not. . .?"

"Because you're our friend. I don't care about your past, Electra – we all have demons – we need each other. As far as I'm concerned, you are one of us and I know the others think the same. But you ever say anything like that again, and I will slap you stupid; you hear me, Electra?"

Electra said nothing for a few moments, but then she looked at Naomi and she smiled.

"Thanks, Naomi. You're a good friend and I'm sorry for what I said. All this is a struggle for me to cope with but I know I can get through it with all of you helping me."

"We'll be there – always."

"Oh, crap!"

"What?" Naomi asked.

"Stephanie's gonna kill me."

"Oh, yeah!"

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

Both girls were shocked and a very upset when, that evening, Cassie brought their nightclothes into their holding rooms.

They weren't the only ones as Naomi, Harper, and Kaitlin put up a valiant defence for their friends.

"No – I don't want to sleep here," Abigail tried as she burst into tears.

Electra had been the same but Cassie had explained to all five girls that Electra and Abigail both needed a 'timeout' until the following morning. Dejectedly, both girls had changed for bed and then climbed onto the very unappealing steel bunk. The light had been turned off, leaving a small nightlight illuminated near to the door of each cell. Both girls were scared but when the doors to their cells had clicked shut, both had cried themselves to sleep.

Cassie hated doing it, but it had to be done.

..._...

Several hours later, Abigail came awake. She had no idea what had awoken her but it was still dark, apart from the nightlight which illuminated the area around the door. The door – it was ajar. It must have been the door mechanism which had awoken the girl as it was released. Abigail slid out of the bed and placed her bare feet onto the cold concrete floor – very cold! She padded over to the door and gingerly looked out into the darkened space outside.

"Don't hit me!"

Abigail turned to see Electra two feet away.

"Don't attack me and I won't hit you," Abigail retorted as she turned her back on Electra and moved forward into the shadows.

"Why did the doors release?" Electra asked.

"Can't you shut the fuck up?"

"Sorry – only trying to be friendly."

"We're bitter enemies, Electra – that fight proved that."

"How did that fight start, anyway?"

"I don't know, really."

"I think it was when you knocked into me, while you were sparring. . ."

"I did _not_ knock into _you_! _You_ knocked into _me_!" Abigail growled as she turned on Electra.

Abigail only turned a fraction before she yelled out as she received a strong punch to her left side. Abigail stumbled but then she kicked Electra in the stomach putting her down on her back, Abigail pounced on the young girl but then she froze for a moment as Electra's pyjama top came open and Abigail laid eyes on the stab-wound just above the younger girl's left collarbone.

Abigail pulled open the rest of the pyjama top and she followed the long scar from just above Electra's right breast and on downwards, passing to the left of her bellybutton then on to her left thigh. Abigail stopped and checked out Electra's other thigh, where there was another stab wound, scarred over. Electra watched the older girl's eyes and she could feel Abigail's fingers as they traced the massive scar.

Electra reached up and lifted Abigail's pyjama top to find the scar on her left abdomen which extended vertically downwards from her left breast. Then she took Abigail's left hand and checked out both sides for the small knife wound there.

"Look, before we start stripping each other naked and then fucking each other's brains out, can we just sit down, please," Abigail growled.

Electra giggled as she sat up.

"We're a pair of idiots, aren't we?" she said slowly.

"You got that one right, Electra – I'm sorry for that scar and everything else that I've done to you, including that kick. Let's end this and become friends before our lord and master comes back across the Atlantic and kills us both."

"I'm sorry, too, Abigail. Yes – I'm scared of her too."

"Friends?" Abigail asked as she held out her right hand.

Electra glanced at the scar in the palm extended towards her, but she took it readily and shook it firmly.

"Friends!"

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Wednesday, September 7th_**

 ** _Vengeance Training Facility_**

"Well, hello, girls!" Cassie called out as she entered the holding room.

"Morning, Cassie, Natasha."

"You two sleep well?" Natasha asked.

"I think so," Electra commented as she looked over at Abigail lying on the bunk beside her.

"Well done, the both of you," Natasha added.

"You were watching us, weren't you?" Abigail enquired.

"Of course – we had to ensure your safety; both of you," Cassie confirmed.

"Thank you," Electra said.

"I second that," Abigail added as she received a hug from Electra. "Electra – people are going to start talking; less of the lesbian shit, okay?"

"I promise," Electra grinned.

"Are we off house arrest, now?" Abigail asked.

"Fancy breakfast?" Cassie asked the two girls who quickly bolted up off the bunk in response.

..._...

There were yells of welcome and happiness as the two girls entered the kitchen, still dressed in their pyjamas. Naomi, Kaitlin, and Harper squealed in delight.

"I go out of town for a few days and this is what I find on my return!" Yvette offered good-naturedly.

"I thought you'd returned to France," Electra pointed out.

"Oui."

"And . . ." Abigail pushed.

"Marinette and Adrien are headed out of town – to some shithole called Gotham, I think."

"Well, we are always glad to have such a polite young lady to stay," Cassie said.

Electra laughed out loud at that and Yvette scowled.

"Yvette is no 'polite lady', Cassie."

"Va te faire enculer!"

"Not nice!" Natasha exclaimed. "You'd better shove five Euros in the swear jar, Yvette."

"Merde!"

"Six Euros!"

Yvette grinned sheepishly as she emptied six coins into a jar labelled 'Guests'.

"See!" Electra smirked.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Thursday, September 8th_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Fuckin' hell!" Abigail breathed as she ran her eyes over the armoured combat suits, including those belonging to Prowl, Glide, and Polaris.

"They're amazing. . ." Yvette commented.

"When do I get one?" Electra asked.

Cameron laughed.

"Not quite yet, little one."

"Who're you calling 'little', huh?" Electra growled.

"My apologies, Rigour!" Cameron chuckled.

"I should think so, too!"

"I think she's trying to stand in for Stephanie," Yvette said to Kaitlin who giggled.

"Anyway – we called you all here because Abby and Eric have come up with something important," Natasha said. "We've found somebody who might help us – not willingly, I suppose, not at first; but he will help us."

"All we need to know is where to aim our weapons," Abigail growled.

"Six _Predators_ – a force to be reckoned with!" Keira chuckled. "Rein it in, Fury – you'll get your chance to fuck 'em over."

"Promise?"

"Promise."


	22. London Calling

**_That same day  
Thursday, September 8th_**

 ** _Chicago, United States of America  
Synthesis Data Facility_**

"Okay, guys, you have a mission!"

Hal still felt a little freaked out as the eyes casually wandered across her body, but she was getting used to it – they _were_ fellow geeks after all!

"They are called Scorpio and we are mounting an operation against them. We need control of the CCTV at their London HQ. There must be no record of our visit before, during, nor after. A word of caution: you _will_ see faces, but I urge you not to speculate – on that note we are going to trust you all with that information."

"You can trust us," Libby said and there were four other nods of agreement.

"Battle Guy will contact you with your individual assignments and VPN details to cover your tracks – we do not want an electronic flaming arrow pointing back to Chicago, right?"

"We're Hit Girl's best, Hal – we know what we're doing," Jesse pointed out.

"Yeah!" Peter and Kate said together.

"What is the operation?" Laurence asked.

"Most of it is need-to-know, Jolly Ox, but we're searching for somebody, a friendly, and we believe that Scorpio knows where that somebody might be," Hal explained.

"We have _Fusion's_ back, Hal – _Vengeance's_ back, too," Libby said.

* * *

 ** _Edinburgh, Scotland  
Vengeance Command Centre_**

The six girls, plus Cassie, Keira, Craig, the Chief, and Eric, were arrayed around Natasha and Cameron.

"This is the Fusion Covert Combat Suit Mk2 – or FCCS2 for short. . ."

"Still a fucking mouthful!" Kaitlin muttered to Harper who giggled in response.

Natasha scowled at the interruption but she continued nonetheless.

". . . The suit is very similar to those worn by _Fusion_ and _Vengeance_ during our European adventure, earlier in the year. It is lightweight, so it can be worn beneath normal clothing while still providing a high degree of protection to the wearer. We are the first to gain these suits and we will be putting them to use very soon. For now, please find your suit – they are colour coded for each of you."

It was not long before everybody was stripping off and pulling on their new lightweight combat suits. Each vigilante would be covered from head to toe, with a removable, full-face, mask. Unlike the usual suits, there were no unique embellishments, however, the single unique items on the suit were the coloured markings on the upper right arm and on the left thigh.

"How did you get mine, so fast?" Abigail asked as she studied the bright red markings.

"These suits don't take as long to make as the full combat suits. You're also very similar in size to somebody else, who that suit was intended for – same with Electra," Natasha advised.

"These are so sleek – they show off my curves," Kaitlin commented.

"What curves?" Naomi demanded.

"A girl can dream," Kaitlin grinned a she checked herself out in the mirror.

"Well, I do have curves and I look _hot_!" Cassie said with a smirk.

"Well, I'm sure Andy will _love_ you in that suit!" Kaitlin grinned and Cassie scowled.

"You little. . ." Cassie began as Kaitlin ignored her and turned to her friends.

"You wouldn't _believe_ the screaming when Cassie has her boyfriend, Andy, over – it's nothing _but_ screaming: 'Harder, harder!', 'Yes, yes!', 'Fuck me deeper!' – it goes on, believe me!"

"Kaitlin!" Cassie growled as her face went very red.

Abigail just stood there with her mouth hanging open while Harper, Electra and Naomi just giggled.

"Way too much information!" Yvette added as she herself went pink in the face.

"I have more – so much more!" Kaitlin laughed as Cassie moved towards her.

"How about we check out these suits – maybe see how much of a beating they can take. Let's start with Glide – I'd like to see if the suit can stop a .45-calibre bullet."

"I forgot – I have nothing else that concerns Cassie's sex life," Glide offered quickly as she pulled on her mask and ran from the room.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Friday, September 9th_**

 ** _Scorpio HQ  
London_**

" _Synthesis_ , this is _Vengeance_ – standing by, over!"

Q was sitting in the back of a blacked-out dark blue Ford Transit, just around the corner from the Scorpio Enterprises HQ. The screens before him showed everything that was happening around the van and in the immediate area.

 _"_ Vengeance _,_ Synthesis _– CCTV is under our control; fair winds and following seas."_

"Will do, _Synthesis_ – _Vengeance_ out. _Vengeance_ callsigns move in."

"Crimson and Nemesis are moving in with the rug rats."

Q smiled at the reference as he watched the team move into the hornet's nest. He was not happy with the operation but it was the only viable method to get the information that they needed without causing too many problems.

Each child wore a school uniform, with trousers for the girls to cover the suits.

..._...

After moving through security – their suits did not trigger any alerts and they carried no weapons – they were met by a tall man in a dark suit who escorted them to the lifts and then up to the tenth floor.

"I don't like it up here," Abigail muttered.

"Nothing's going to happen – well, not to you, Abigail," Natasha said quietly as they were escorted down yet another corridor.

"Here we are, ladies, and kids," their escort offered as he led open a door in to a large anti-room where two women sat at desks.

Both women peered over their computer monitors at the new arrivals and one picked up her phone.

"They're here, sir . . . right away, sir."

They were escorted through a pair of large polished-wood double doors and into a capacious office with large windows which looked out over the River Thames and the huge O2 venue.

"Sir – these are the kids from Scotland," the escort said as he stepped out of the way.

The man briefly cast an eye over the seven kids and two adults before he stepped forwards from behind his desk.

"Welcome to Scorpio Enterprises – I am . . ."

'A total bastard who needs his fucking teeth kicked in,' Abigail thought as she kept herself silent and partially hidden behind Craig.

". . . William Fraser, Managing Director of Scorpio Enterprises. You've met my Deputy Head of Security – Dale Evans; he's new."

"Thank you, so very much, for allowing us to visit, Mr Fraser," Natasha said.

The man launched into a speech about his organisation and how it benefited so many people in so many parts of the world.

..._...

Abigail was getting impatient with the rhetoric that spilled form the bastard's mouth. Cassie had noticed her anger building and she quickly decided to accelerate the mission.

" _Synthesis_ – execute!"

 _"Synthesis copies – program is running."_

Every electronically operated door in the building went into lockdown. Nobody onsite would be able to open a door for the next four hours – without it being opened by _Synthesis_ who were in full control of the high-tech building's computer systems.

Abigail stepped forwards.

"Do you remember me?" she asked insolently, her voice full of malice.

"I do," Fraser growled, his anger building as he recognised the situation. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, we need information from you," Abigail replied.

"Evans!"

The Deputy Head of Security reached for his pistol but his hand was nowhere near the weapon when Cassie, quick as a flash, put him down on the ground and she acquired his pistol, pointing it at the unfortunate man's head.

"I understand," Fraser chuckled. "You are here about the boy. Well, he isn't here – feel free to look. I last spoke to the little shit about two weeks ago, only he escaped, along with his bitch."

"I ought to kill you where you stand!" Abigail growled.

"I don't think so," Fraser laughed.

"You have no idea what I am capable of, old man, you have no idea what I am."

"Quite the contrary, girl – I know exactly what you are. You are a _Predator_ – a failed, fucked up idea that originated with the CIA and filtered through to our side of the Atlantic. I understand the whole scheme was canned – no surprise; you're fucking unstable!"

"Where is he?" Abigail roared.

"Oh, I have no intention of giving up that little titbit of information – but suffice to say, he is safe. . ."

The bastard laughed out loud, his contempt for them all plain to see. Abigail flew at him, knocking the smirking bastard back against his desk. His smirk remained fixed in place, despite the angry young girl.

"You cannot hurt me. I have more of your kind – I die; they die. Understand, girl?"

Abigail paused as she was about to strike the man.

"Now, none of you will escape this building – my security force is not as inept as Mr Evans on the floor, there. I would suggest that you all surrender and I will find suitable work for you abortive, fucked up experiments."

"You're all fucking talk, aren't you," Craig growled. "I am sick and tired of me, my friends, and others like us being abused by sick bastards like you!"

"I am an opportunist; I did not create you. I just see a profit, or maybe a resource. . ."

"You are fucking scum!" Cassie exclaimed as she made for the man and punched him hard in the face.

Fraser put a hand to his cheek and it came away bloody, revealing a long gash from the ring Cassie was wearing. The man swore under his breath before his smile returned.

"I'll leave you with a teaser – Jamie and his whore headed southwest, maybe a hundred miles or so. Take it, or fucking leave it."

Fraser glared at all those assembled before him and he brazenly walked behind his desk and he pressed the button for his secretary on his desk phone – only it wasn't his secretary who responded.

 _"Who do you wanna speak with, asshole?"_

The American accent was easily recognisable, although slightly distorted by an electronic filter. Fraser hit another button on the phone killing the voice. He looked angry, but he just shook his head. Them, before anybody could move, Fraser walked over towards the far wall and he pushed open a section between two bookshelves. By the time Craig reached the section of wall, it had clicked shut and he was unable to open it.

"Fuck! Let's move, Vengeance," Natasha announced as she pulled on her mask and gauntlets.

..._...

Everybody followed suit, pulling on their own masks and gauntlets. Nemesis kicked the Deputy Head of Security in the head putting him out cold.

" _Synthesis_ – let us out!"

The main doors to the office clicked open and Crimson went through the door first. The two women were both behind their desks – one stood as they entered and she brought up a pistol. Polaris dived at the women, leaping over the desk and punching her in the face with one hand and disarming her with the other. Fury and Prowl made for the outer door while Nemesis covered the other woman with her appropriated pistol. The rule that day was: no killing – unless it was absolutely necessary and _only_ in self-defence.

" _Synthesis_ – outer door and kill CCTV!" Nemesis ordered. "Break. Q, scramble _Twilight_!"

 _"CCTV is down!"_ _Synthesis_ replied almost instantly.

 _"_ Twilight _scrambled!"_ Q confirmed.

Fury and Prowl pulled open the doors and Glide carefully peered out into the corridor.

"Four men to the left and three to the right," the young vigilante reported, over the moon to finally be in action as Glide.

"Guns?" Nemesis enquired.

"Shitload of 'em!" Glide commented.

"Okay," Crimson advised. "You all know the exfiltration route. Take it easy and try not to kill. Stripe – you take La Terreaur, Fury, and Rigour to the right and make for the roof. Nemesis – you take Glide and Prowl to the left; I'll follow with Polaris. Move!"

They all dived out of the door together, flooding the corridor with masked individuals. The three men to the right found themselves facing four masked individuals, three of whom appeared to be very young. The four men to the left found two groups advancing towards them, one of three and the other of two. The men were all surprised at the speed of advance and none of them were able to bring their firearms to bear in time before hell descended on them.

If any of the Scorpio security men thought that the kids would be easy meat; the _Predators_ ensured that the men were left with a lasting impression of what they could do. Indeed, some of the men could well remember a previous visit, only a few weeks previously from a  single _Predator_. They all went down hard as _Vengeance_ powered through them all making their way to the fire stairs at each end of the corridor.

All nine vigilantes burst out onto the roof at about the same time, from either end and they all made for the south end.

* * *

 ** _That same time_**

 ** _Twilight_**

Scorpion was not a happy pilot.

She was hovering only a short distance from the main London City Airport landing pattern and she was receiving a constant stream of violations from Air Traffic Control.

"Golf Victor Echo November Golf, you are in violation, squawk seven two seven niner and ident."

In response, Scorpion flipped her Mode A transponder to 7600, indicating a radio failure. Air Traffic Control would have no choice but to clear the airspace around _Twilight_ until her mission was completed. The cabin was noisy as both side doors had been locked back in the open position to allow quick and easy access for the troops she was about to pull out of harm's way. It was something she had done many times before – usually for Royal Marines being picked up from a hot landing zone.

Only a minute after her arrival, Scorpion grinned as she saw masked vigilantes appear in the rooftop. She counted each one as they ran towards her and she lowered the helicopter down to just three feet off the rooftop. She watched as Stripe literally threw Glide aboard followed by the other girls. He then pulled himself aboard and was followed by Crimson and Nemesis. Crimson pulled open the co-pilot's hatch and slipped into the co-pilot's seat. Once all the doors were shut and each member had reported in, Scorpion increased the pitch on the rotor blades and stomped on the left anti-torque pedal bringing Twilight around to the west.

As Scorpion lifted off, she flipped the transponder to 0026, indicating a change in designation to that of a military aircraft on a special tasking. Again, Air Traffic Control would have no choice but to clear the airspace around _Twilight_. That, in turn, generated a call from London Military Radar East Air Traffic Control to which Scorpion responded rather tartly: "London Mil, _Scorpion_ – bite me!"

" _Vengeance_ , Q – tracker is five by five!"

Everybody had an enormous grin on the faces as they unmasked; the endgame was moving inexorably closer.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _North of Hyde Park_**

Scorpion made yet another illegal move and dropped them all off in Hyde Park before she returned to the London Heliport.

The Mayfair property was off limits as it would require extensive maintenance before it would be habitable again. Instead, they headed for Safehouse VL, a property which had not been utilised but which had been available for a number of months. The property was spread over four floors and boasted eight bedrooms with six bathrooms plus a cloakroom. Strategically, it was also less than a mile from two Tube stations. It was a welcome refuge for the evening as there was no idea when things might start to kick-off.

The kids were encouraged to get themselves cleaned up and then into bed for some much-needed rest. As far as Eric was concerned, William Fraser was still at his HQ, most probably pissed that everybody had escaped. At eight that night, once everybody had eaten and enjoyed three hours rest, it was time to get back to work monitoring Fraser. Natasha and Abigail would take the first shift, that night, monitoring William Fraser. He was soon seen to be on the move, heading towards his own apartment in Knightsbridge.

Cameron and Eric had picked up Keira in the surveillance van and were heading over to Fraser's apartment.

..._...

"You okay?" Natasha asked as she drove through the dark streets of London.

"I'm surviving," Abigail replied. "They weren't kidding about your driving!"

"Funny! I'm a little heavy on my right foot, but I've trashed less cars than Mindy has."

"You all appear to respect Mindy – despite who she is."

"We all owe her something. My brother and I owe her our lives – without Mindy, I would not like to contemplate where we might be, right now."

"When this is over . . . will I be expected to become one of you?"

"No, Abigail. That is the point – you are free to do what you want with your life. After all, it is _your_ life, Abigail. You want to become a normal girl, then you can. We can find you somewhere to live with a family."

"Would I be able to go live in America?"

"If you chose that, then I wouldn't see why not. You all lost control of your lives when you were taken and trained as _Predators_. You now have your life back and you can do with it what you wish. It will be hard, but you have many friends, Abigail."

"I've noticed – many used to be my enemies."

"You're all very strong – you can make it."

"Thanks."

 _"I think our slippery friend is leaving town,"_ Cameron radioed.

"We're on it!"

A minute later, they pulled in a hundred yards beyond the dark blue Ford Transit. Cameron appeared and he knocked on the window and Natasha lowered it.

"He's got a bag with him – we think he's bugging out," Cameron explained.

"Which car?" Natasha asked.

Cameron grinned as he looked across at Abigail.

"Hope your seatbelt is cinched tight, honey," Cameron chuckled as he pointed down the street to where William Fraser was climbing into his car.

Just as he did so, he waved before he pulled down his door. The Storm Grey McLaren 675LT accelerated away rapidly.

Natasha grinned at her brother as she dropped the eight-speed gearbox of the Onyx Black Aston Martin Vanquish S into Drive and she floored the accelerator. Over six-hundred thoroughbred horses effortlessly accelerated the 1,320-kilogramme car as the pursuit began.

"Q!"

The Ford Transit slewed to a halt and Cameron pushed Q out of the driver's seat.

"You drive like a fucking old woman!"

..._...

The McLaren headed east along the A315, roaring past The Park Tower before taking a left onto Park Lane and the A4202 north past the east end of Hyde Park.

Abigail glanced over at the speedometer and she grimaced as saw that it registered a little over 70 miles per hour and they were in a 30 zone! Abigail ensured that her seatbelt was as tight as possible before she resumed her role of keeping a good lookout ahead on the dark streets lest they should crash into some errant driver. As they swept past Marble Arch, heading west they picked up a Metropolitan Police Vauxhall Astra which was thoroughly humiliated as its 4-cylinder 1.9-litre turbo-diesel was severely underpowered when compared to the six-litre V12 engine on the Aston or the four-litre V8 twin-turbo engine on the McLaren. Needless, to say, the Astra was left far behind as the pair of super cars continued east on the A402.

Cameron and Eric were heading east on the same road when the van was physically shaken as they were undertaken and overtaken by the two cars, Natasha leaning on the horn of the Aston as she blazed past on the inside.

"Stupid bitch is going to kill herself!" Cameron growled as he dropped the van into third and floored the accelerator revving the two-litre 170-horsepower turbo-diesel engine past the red line as he endeavoured in vain to keep up with the two cars which had rapidly vanished into the distance.

"You're going to kill _us_ , dickhead!" Eric groaned as he braced himself.

Cameron swerved the long-wheelbase van in and out of the traffic as best as he could, narrowly avoiding other vehicles, pedestrians, and road furniture.

..._...

The Shepherd's Bush roundabout produced an interesting diversion as Fraser skilfully manoeuvred his McLaren through the traffic with Natasha and Abigail only feet behind, both cars in perfect symmetry as they used a power-slide manoeuvre to navigate around the square roundabout. Abigail kept up a running commentary over the communications for those enjoying the safety of the Safehouse.

"Okay – entering the roundabout _sideways_. . . Don't think the driver of that Mondeo was all that impressed by our manoeuvre – oh; that was just plain rude! Err Nats – red means stoooop! Where the fuck did you learn to drive? The fucking moon? Okay - passing forty . . . sixty – I'm too young to die! Oh, shit! We're _not_ going to fit through that gaaaaap . . . how the bloody fuck!?"

Thankfully for all involved, the traffic began to thin as they left the heart of London behind. They picked up the A4 at Brentford which became the M4 after a few miles and both cars were able to properly accelerate. They blazed past Heathrow Airport continuing along the M4.

"Shouldn't we slow down, just a tad?" Abigail enquired.

"You are a real pussy – grow some balls!" Natasha grinned.

"Fuck you!"

"That's better – now let's catch that cunt!"

They passed between Windsor and Maidenhead at twice the 70mph speed limit.

"You know that he could be leading us into a trap?"

"We know – he wants us to follow him. The bastard is up to something – to be honest, I think he has a massive ego (you know, Stephanie size) and he thinks he can pull one over on us and survive."

"Arrogant cunt!"

The pursued the fleeing McLaren as far as the A34 junction at Chieveley. Then the million-pound super car just vanished.

"Where the fuck is he?" Abigail exclaimed as she twisted and turned in her seat, looking around them.

"Fuck knows!" Natasha growled angrily. " _Vengeance_ – we've lost him."

 _"Copy that!"_

..._...

The drive back, after a brief pause for some petrol and a cheeseburger, was a lot more leisurely and Natasha drove at just below the speed limit, much to Abigail's pleasure.

By the time they reached the outskirts of London, Abigail was fast asleep. Natasha smiled at the young girl – she looked peaceful as she slept. The bastard who had evaded them had a lot to answer for -he held that girl against her will for weeks and for all anybody knew, that bastard Fraser had had something to do with the girl's rape.

They met up with Cameron and Eric in the Transit at the Chiswick junction of the A40 Great West Road.

"You, okay, sis?" Cameron asked as he gave his twin sister a hug.

"Yeah – a fun drive, but we missed him by a cunt hair."

Cameron chuckled. Natasha's vocabulary got very salty when she was angry. He peered into the Aston and she smiled at the sight of the sleeping Abigail.

"She okay?"

"Yeah – she's tired."

* * *

 ** _Later that night_**

 ** _North of Hyde Park  
Safehouse VL_**

"Thanks, Mindy – we'll update you further when we know more."

"You all take care," Mindy grinned as she terminated the video call.

Natasha sat back for a moment. The briefing for Mindy had taken over an hour and she was very tired. There was a lot to plan and a lot to bring together in a very short amount of time. On her way to her bedroom, she found Cassie chuckling at Kaitlin.

"I want to go on this mission!" Kaitlin growled. "I _deserve_ to go on this mission; it's about rescuing _Predators_ , after all."

Kaitlin folded her arms across her chest and she sat down on the edge of the sofa, her face looking like thunder. Naomi rolled her eyes and she shook her head in despair. Natasha just smirked.

"Kaitlin – we would not leave any of you out of this; just be patient. There is a lot to do and lot to get ready. We need your help, as much as everybody else, okay?"

Kaitlin grinned happily.

* * *

 _This storyline continues in_ **Chapter 326: Stormtide** _of_ **Forsaken**


	23. LV-426

**_That afternoon  
Tuesday, September 13th, 2016_**

While the team went off in search of Rage, Peanut needed some new clothes.

The clothing that the little girl had arrived in had been covered in mud and soaked, so Chloe had thrown the clothing away in disgust, ignoring Beck's annoyed concerns. Instead, Chloe had raided Kaitlin's clothing bag, liberating a pair of knickers, a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a jumper. A pair of Naomi's trainer socks and Becky's own trainers finished off the ensemble. Kaitlin was physically bigger than Becky, but the elasticated waist on the jeans prevented them from slipping down. The bottoms of the jeans were rolled up to prevent them from looking too ridiculous.

Without much conscious thought, Chloe appropriated one of the MI5 Sentinels and they headed off to the nearest mall, store, or whatever the nearest town could offer. They actually drove quite a distance, finding themselves in Christchurch where they found a giant shopping centre with dozens of clothing shops. Chloe intended to make good use of her 'emergency' credit card and she hoped that Mindy would not mind. An hour later, Chloe deposited several carrier bags into the Sentinel's boot before they headed back for some pizza. On the way to Pizza Hut, Chloe dragged Becky into a clothing shop for some more shopping.

Becky was getting a little annoyed but she went along with the shopping to keep Chloe happy – although Becky _was_ enjoying all the attention.

..._...

While Chloe dug through the racks of clothing for suitable items of clothing, Becky wandered around looking at this and that. Despite Chloe's warning, Becky began to drift further away from Chloe.

"Chloe!"

Chloe turned to see Rebecca being dragged through a door a dozen yards away. She dropped the clothes she was holding and bolted for the same door which swung shut and locked a second before Chloe could grasp hold of it. She had no time for finesse so she simply pulled out her suppressed pistol and blasted the lock.

"Chloe!"

The voice came from below. A set of steel stairs dropped down into the basement and Chloe dived down them, almost jumping from landing to landing in her haste to catch up. By the time, she reached the bottom, the door to the carpark was just slamming shut. Chloe yanked it open and burst out into the car park – narrowly avoiding a car looking for a parking space.

"Chloeeee!"

Chloe turned towards the scream and she saw Becky being shoved (thrown might have been more accurate) into the back of a Jeep 4x4. Chloe ran across the carpark, dodging cars as she went – infuriating a BMW owner as Chloe slid across the bonnet of his 5-series saloon. The Jeep was accelerating away as Chloe came close. She tried to get a shot off from her pistol but between the concrete pillars and the shoppers who appeared to wander about aimlessly, she never got a shot off as the Jeep vanished up the exit ramp at speed. Chloe muted her scream of anger and frustration as she ran for the Sentinel. Then, after having calmed down for a few moments as she sat in the driver's seat, she smiled to herself as she suddenly remembered something.

While she had been dressing Becky back at the Safehouse, Chloe had grabbed one of Q's trackers and secured it to Becky's left ankle under the jeans. She could not remember why she had fitted the tracker but she was glad that she had as she pulled out her smart phone and accessed the tracking app. The signal was strong and steady, travelling at forty miles-per-hour about three miles away. She was heading west. Chloe started the Range Rover and she quickly left the carpark, heading west. As she drove, she began to think: who had Becky? It had to be Scorpio – nobody else would know who Becky was and, as far as she knew, _Urban Predator_ was gone and no longer recruiting.

The signal showed them heading up the Spur Road towards the A31. They were not exceeding the speed limit which indicated to Chloe that they had no idea she was following Becky. Chloe had notified Hal and Q of the rapidly unfolding events – Hal had said something unprintable and questioned Chloe's judgment but both had gone along with her scheme to recover Becky.

"You get yourself killed and Hit Girl will bring you back to life, just to kill you again!" Hal commented dryly. "As soon as Scorpion is finished at Site B, I'll get her over to you for close support."

"Thanks, Hal – I owe you one," Chloe replied.

"That'll be two-thousand I-O-Us. . ."

"See ya, Hal!"

..._...

The transmitter attached to the girl's ankle was working like a charm.

Which was good, as the signal showed the vehicle heading to the east, along the A31. The potential destinations were infinite: London, Portsmouth, Dover. . . However, the vehicle picked up the M27 just as Chloe regained sight of the Jeep the M271 junction, the Jeep turned off and made for Southampton. Twenty minutes later, Chloe slowed and stopped the Sentinel fifty yards away from the Jeep which had pulled up beside a large container ship which was unloading its cargo beside the quay. Through binoculars, Chloe could clearly see what was going on, despite the darkness, thanks to ultra-bright arc lights which illuminated the facility as if it were day.

"Hal, Shadow – I've tracked . . . err, Scamp . . . down – they're taking her aboard a container ship in the Port of Southampton."

 _"You about to do something impulsive that might get you killed?"_ Hal asked shrewdly.

"You know me too well, Hal!" Chloe chuckled. "I have to go get that little girl back – you understand?"

 _"I do, Shadow – go do what you do best. I'll get Scorpion headed your way. Stay safe, Shadow – you're my best friend."_

"Hey, it's me!"

 _"That is what I am afraid of. . ."_

Chloe laughed nervously.

"I'll be in touch – Shadow out!"

* * *

 ** _Scorpio Special Projects Division_**

 ** _Command Van_**

Hal was not happy with what her best-friend was up to, despite understanding why.

Shadow was alone and that was not good. Yes, Shadow could look after herself and she was very capable but she was also headstrong and there were times when her brain was not part of her decision-making process. Hal was also concerned about her best-friend's mental state considering her loss only the previous week. Things had calmed down and _Twilight_ was now available.

"Scorpion – we have an alert call from Shadow. Sending you vectors now."

 _"Copy new vectors, Hal. Leaving orbit now and making for Shadow. Will confirm ETA en-route."_

"Go have fun, Scorpion!"

* * *

 ** _Southampton Container Terminal_**

Chloe wrenched open the upper hatch of the Range Rover and then pulled down the lower section of the hatch.

There was a large steel enclosure in the back and Chloe released the catches on the lower tray. Her eyes went wide as she took in a very comprehensive collection of lethal and very modern weaponry. She grinned happily, and thankfully, at how prepared the Brits could be – it was one thing you could always rely on.

"Bingo!" Chloe grinned. "Thank you, MI5!"

Chloe pulled out a Heckler & Koch G36C and she checked the action – it was ready for use and freshly oiled. She laid the weapon down and selected another weapon; this time a Benelli M4 Super90 semi-automatic combat shotgun – known as the L128A1 in its current British guise. After a brief check to ensure it was operational, it was, she laid it alongside the G36C and then selected the relevant ammunition for both weapons. She loaded the shotgun with seven rounds, plus one up the 'spout', and she placed fourteen more shotgun cartridges next to their host weapon. Next, came four thirty-round magazines for the H&K, arranged in. A third pair was inserted into the assault rifle with a clip securing the two magazines together. A Glock 17 pistol was added with three spare magazines while a fourth was inserted into the butt of the pistol and a round loaded into the breech – the magazine was then switched with a fully-loaded replacement.

From a larger draw above the weapons, Chloe selected a suitably-sized flak jacket and she pulled it on over her t-shirt. Once zipped up and the waist tightened, she inserted three of the six H&K G36C magazines into pouches on the front right of the jacket. The Glock pistol was secured in a holster mounted on the left side and angled slightly to the right for quick access. Three spare seventeen-round Glock magazines went into pouches mounted on the left chest of the jacket. Chloe wrapped a webbing belt around her waist and loaded the spare shotgun cartridges into a pouch on her left hip. The pouch on her right hip took the remaining H&K magazines. An 8-inch, blackened combat knife hung behind the right pouch.

The final act was to add camouflage face cream to her face and a dark green scrim scarf to cover her blonde hair.

"I'm coming for you, Peanut – you hang in there."

* * *

 ** _Aboard MV Hélène S_**

 ** _Southampton Container Terminal_**

"Get off me!"

"Shut up, kid, if you know what's good for you!"

The response was accompanied by a backhanded slap across the face which sent Becky flying back against the steel bulkhead and she banged her head. She glared back at the woman who had slapped her but the young girl was used to physical abuse, despite her not exactly enjoying it.

"You are going to die," Becky said calmly but coldly. "And I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer."

"Forgive me, for not being scared of a tiny little scrap, like you," the woman laughed.

"So, what do I call you? Daisy? I knew a bitch called Daisy, once – she had to be put to sleep for being so damned ugly!"

One of them men present laughed at the woman's angry glare before she stormed out of the steel-walled space.

"You are just making it worse for yourself, girl – Agatha is a nasty bitch with very little in the way of morals; remember that."

"Why you being nice to me?"

"I don't hurt children – but if I'm forced to. . ."

"Copy that!" Becky growled.

* * *

Chloe was twenty yards from the gangway for MV Hélène S.

Getting aboard would be dicey – getting off again with a passenger, well, she'd worry about that at the right time. Chloe picked a moment as a giant mobile something-or-other moved past her position at a very slow speed. She ran out and she rolled beneath its giant four-foot-tall wheels, following its route in the shadows. As it passed beside the Hélène S, Chloe dived out from behind one of the enormous tyres and she bolted for the gangway which was momentarily doused in shadow as the giant container crane blocked the overhead arc lights for several seconds.

The run up the gangway was exhilarating but ultimately successful. She found herself close to the main, eight-storey, superstructure with three tiers of containers towering over her head and a dozen or so rows of containers vanishing across to the port side, a good thirty metres away. The ship was, at least as far as Chloe was concerned, massive. The rows of containers occupied most of the forward section of the ship and the after deck, aft of the towering superstructure. The ship was just five-centimetres short of two-hundred metres in length.

Chloe made her way a dozen yards aft to the white-painted superstructure and she vanished inside.

* * *

 ** _A dozen nautical miles to the west  
and a mile north of Fordingbridge_**

 ** _Twilight_**

Scorpion was closing in on Shadow's position.

Beside her, the Chief was dozing in the co-pilot's seat. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a loud thump and the aircraft shook from nose dome to tail rotor. The Chief came awake very quickly and Scorpion felt a chill run down her backbone as a warning siren sounded and then she saw yellow warning lights illuminate for the port engine, followed by a voice warning from the on-board computer.

 _"Port engine . . . turbine failure . . . port engine . . . turbine failure."_

Then a red warning light snapped on, accompanied by a sharp tone sounding in Scorpion's helmet:

 **ENG  
FIRE**

Scorpion automatically followed procedure and she scanned for a suitable landing zone before she shutdown the port engine and lowered the landing gear. Less than a minute later, with immense skill, she put _Twilight_ down in a field and shutdown the remaining engine and all her systems.

"Command . . . _Twilight_ is down, repeat, _Twilight_ is down!" Scorpion radioed as she dived out of the helicopter, closely followed by the Chief and they ran a dozen yards before diving for cover.

There was a high chance of the fire reigniting and the helicopter exploding. They gave it five minutes before they both emerged to check out the damage as the rotor-blades slowly spun to a halt.

"Fuck!" Scorpion growled as she examined the damage and she rapidly identified the problem – the mass of feathers, blood, and splattered flesh indicated a bird strike in the port engine.

Scorpion paced up and down as the Chief examined the damage more closely. After two minutes, he turned to Scorpion and he simply shook his head forlornly – it would need a full engine replacement.

"Fuck!" Scorpion repeated quite a bit louder.

Then came some slight relief.

 _"Scorpion, Spook – I have your location. Will be there in ten, out!"_

* * *

 ** _Aboard MV Hélène S_**

 ** _Southampton Container Terminal_**

Chloe found the 01-deck devoid of life.

She figured that most of the crew would be busy loading cargo or otherwise ashore. There were eight decks above and probably four or five decks below to be searched – a tall order. It would also only be a matter of time before she was discovered aboard. The tracker was no good inside a steel box such a ship, so that was of no help. Chloe moved as stealthily as she could, listening for any activity before she moved past doorways or turned a corner. The superstructure was not all that big which was a blessing.

Chloe found nothing of interest on 01-deck, so she carefully took a steel ladder, up a level, to 02-deck. She found two men snoring in a cabin but otherwise nothing that would help her find Becky.

'Two decks down – many more to go!' Chloe thought to herself as she moved on up to 03-deck.

As she peered out of an open hatch on the starboard side, she smiled and made a brief diversion.

* * *

 **A very soggy field with a broken helicopter and a pissed off pilot**

Spook was true to his word as Scorpion looked up towards the roar of rotor-blades and gas-turbines as a helicopter descended into the field beside _Twilight_.

The McDonnell Douglas Explorer was dark blue overall with yellow upperparts. The markings were that of Dorset Police. The state-of-the-art, NOTAR (no tail rotor) aircraft was a momentary distraction for the helicopter-mad pilot.

 _"You just going to stand there looking like an idiot?"_ Spook chuckled over the comms.

"Sir!" Scorpion replied automatically as she jogged over to the helicopter.

A crewman had opened the side door for her and he waved her forwards and she climbed aboard. Scorpion's flight helmet was still in place with the darkened visor down, covering her eyes. The police pilot looked over his new passenger, taking in the helmet, pistol, and the wings: **SCORPION**. He had observed the dark-grey helicopter that sat in the middle of the field with weapons pods hanging from either side. If there was ever a time to believe in 'black' helicopters, now was the time, he thought. However, he was an ex-Army Puma pilot, so he knew when to pretend to not see something; he knew classified when he saw it, even if the Royal Navy Commander in the back had not recently spelled it out in vivid terms – along with the penalty for disobeying.

As soon as the side door was slammed shut, the pilot applied power and expertly rose into the air, turning due south and increasing speed to over 130-knots.

* * *

 ** _Aboard MV Hélène S_**

 ** _Southampton Container Terminal_**

 ** _Chloe_**

Chloe had hit pay dirt!

"Fuck you!"

It had been a little girls voice – it was coming from a cabin a dozen yards down a corridor on 05-deck which ran almost thirty-metres from port to starboard with two fire-doors at ten-metre intervals, both of which were held open by electromagnets. Chloe heard Becky's scream and she ran harder, turning to her left and kicking in the door. Becky was on the floor, a vivid purple bruise on the left side of her face. A man had just slapped her on the opposite cheek . . . the shotgun blast was deafening in the enclosed cabin as the man smashed up against the bulkhead, a gaping hole in his chest. Becky's smile was enormous as she wiped away her tears and she scrambled back to her feet.

"Move it, girl!" Chloe grinned happily, giving the girl a brief hug as she came over and wrapped her arms around Chloe's waist.

"Okay, Shadow – show me what you got!" Becky said as she stared up into Chloe's green eyes.

Chloe sent two quick bursts of gunfire into the corridor, one to the left (a scream was heard) and the other to the right of the cabin doorway before she dove out into the corridor with Becky at her back. The corridor had a dead body to the left which explained the scream. The ladder below, to 04-deck, was about a dozen metres away. Chloe ran in that direction, with Becky gripping onto her webbing.

Chloe reached the ladder, but stopped just short of it, pushing Becky up against the forward bulkhead. Chloe listened – she could hear feet pounding on the rubber-covered steel, a deck or two above her, however, the decks below appeared to be clear. Chloe moved very slowly down the ladder, keeping Becky close. Each step was torture as she expected a bullet to tear through either or both of them. They both reached the bottom of the ladder and Chloe inched her way towards the corridor, checking for trouble . . . her head was turned for just a second.

"Chloeee!"

* * *

 ** _Becky_**

Becky was screaming as she fell backwards down the ventilator shaft.

She had lost her footing just as she had stepped backwards – it was _so_ stupid! The fall was many feet but Becky landed onto an angled piece of the shaft which led her many more feet towards another vertical drop which descended a long way. The young girl landed on a flexible piece of aluminium which cushioned her fall – before breaking loose and dumping her down onto a steel grating and she narrowly avoided falling into the bilges which were full of black oily water. Becky looked around her and she figured out that she must be deep in the bowels of the ship, probably in the engine room.

The place was enormous – two or three storeys in height with the centrepiece being a massive seven-cylinder, 24,000-horsepower, diesel engine. The steel monster towered high above Becky. She looked around for a way up and she spotted a steel ladder that headed up to the next level.

"Hey!"

Becky looked up to see a man looking down at her from two storeys above her. He pointed something at her and she dove to the side just as a bullet zinged off the grating beside her.

"Stop shooting, you fool!"

Becky froze – it was Agatha's voice.

..._...

Becky scrambled along the gratings making no effort to cover the sound of her feet, considering the loud ambient noise from the auxiliary machinery in the large open space. Above her, came the thundering of boots on steel gratings and ladders as several people descended towards her. Becky rolled beneath a large storage tank which was warm to the touch and stank of oil. Less than a minute later, a pair of large feet stomped into view followed by another pair.

"The little bitch has to be here, somewhere," a man's voice growled.

"When I find her, I am going to hurt her, so fucking badly," Agatha said coldly.

"You are a cold, bitch – she's on this level somewhere. Try the steering flat, she could have gone in there."

"You search the steering flat," Agatha suggested strongly.

"Fuck's sake!"

The man stomped off while Agatha's boots turned this way and that before they also stomped away. Becky remained where she was for another few minutes before she rolled out and she slowly moved towards the steel ladders going up. She just reached the ladders when she froze. Something was blocking out the light. A large shadow was growing before her and the eight-year-old girl began to shake with fear as she considered what was rising up behind her.

Becky turned . . . and she screamed.

* * *

 ** _Chloe_**

"Becky!"

Chloe ran to the ventilator opening and she heard banging and screaming.

"Chloeeeee!"

"I'm coming for you. . ."

Chloe was beside herself with panic and anger. How could she have let Becky out of her sight? How could she have lost the little girl only minutes after finding her?

"No! NO! She's Alive!"

Chloe ran down the next ladder, just as a man approached from below her. The shotgun took his head clean off as Chloe quite literally blasted straight through the man. His body, blood erupting from the severed arteries, crashed to the deck seconds after Chloe had bolted past. Chloe continued to drop down through the decks, and two men, until she reached passed 01-deck, and she reached 1-deck, the first level beneath the main deck. There, Chloe hefted open the hatch which led to the engine room.

"Holy, fuck!" she growled as she took in the enormous space which descended several decks below her.

Where the fuck was she going to start?

Chloe descended down to the first level, her eyes scanning for anything. The background noise was high, preventing Chloe from hearing anything useful. Then, she heard something from far below . . . a piercing scream!

..._...

Chloe bolted for the nearest ladder and she grasped the hand rails, sliding down to the steel gratings below. Two men came running towards her – Chloe had no time for finesse. Two shotgun blasts and two men lay dead. She ignored the next ladder, swinging herself over the steel safety rail and dropping down on top of the enormous engine. She dodged around the cylinder heads and jumped down onto a maintenance platform.

Down below, she caught a glance of an enormous woman . . . and Becky. Chloe pulled up an access hatch and dropped down a ladder which ran down the side of the engine, dropping two levels. Chloe's boots hit the steel gratings attracting the attention of a man who had just appeared from a hatch. Bullets struck the engine behind Chloe as she dropped to one knee and returned fire with the G36C. The man was sheltering behind the steel hatch but that did not help him as a ricochet struck him in the leg and he fell forwards, allowing Chloe to put a bullet in his brain. The ricochets had also damaged some electrical cabling causing some of the overhead lighting to go out, leaving others flickering on and off.

Chloe ran around the engine and stopped. The giant woman, a knife in a hand, was moving towards Becky – they were too close for Chloe to risk using the assault rifle, she put the weapon down, along with the shotgun and she drew her combat knife. The woman appeared oblivious to the gunfire in the engine room – her entire focus appeared to be on the little girl who was backing away.

Chloe advanced on Agatha, the eight-inch combat knife held in her right hand. Becky made a valiant but vain attempt to escape, however, Agatha blocked any escape route and finally, Becky was backed up against a steel bulkhead, cowering before the towering woman as she advanced on the little girl.

"Get away from her, _you bitch_!"

..._...

Agatha spun around and she hissed at Chloe, her own blade glinting in the intermittent lighting. Beyond her, Becky's face was ablaze with sheer relief and happiness as she saw Chloe approaching.

Chloe was very careful as she faced off against the woman. She was _huge_! But that was nothing new; Chloe had fought against overwhelming odds on many an occasion – and won. Chloe would have to use her skill as a vigilante against the sheer brawn of the woman before her. While Chloe was acrobatic, she was nowhere near as good as Megan – but she had taken lessons from her fiery friend to enhance her agility.

Chloe opened up the fight as she somersaulted forwards, slashing the woman across the upper chest. She bellowed out in anger as she twisted around and caught Chloe on the left thigh with her own blade, inflicting a minor wound. Chloe yelled out in pain as she came down onto the steel gratings with a crash. She grinned up at Becky as she quickly rolled back to her feet and dove in for another attack. She was intercepted and thrown bodily against a steel tank with a thud. Chloe was starting to have second-thoughts about beating the woman as she felt herself yanked up off the gratings and thrown bodily through the air, coming down hard on another set of gratings further over. The breath was knocked out of her lungs as she landed but she very quickly refilled them and clambered back to her feet. Agatha moved swiftly and she kicked Chloe hard in the chest, sending the sixteen-year-old flying backwards.

"Chloe!" Becky yelled in horror.

Chloe winced against the pain as she struggled back to her feet. She bolted forwards, slashing with her knife, catching Agatha across the stomach but barely penetrating her clothing. Chloe parried Agatha's own swipe with the long blade in her hand and struck again – her blade drew blood from Agatha's upper left arm – plus a small grunt of annoyance on her part. Chloe was worried – the woman did not appear to be weakening but Chloe was. Her insides were still sore from the previous week and an all-out fight was not what her body needed, right at that very moment.

Chloe stumbled over a loose grating and she fell headlong landing on her right knee – she yelled out in agony, stopping as she was hauled to her feet and then she found herself in a bearhug from behind. Her very life was being squeezed out of her. She stabbed backwards with the combat-knife and she felt it sink into flesh. Agatha emitted a grunt, briefly acknowledging the knife before she simply squeezed harder. Chloe released the hilt of the knife and, after a second's very quick thought, she struck it hard with her fist, then gripped it and twisted it.

The bearhug eased, just enough for Chloe to get her arms out from the hold.

..._...

The squeeze resumed and Chloe felt her breasts being squished into her chest again and she struggled to breathe – her lungs would not inflate.

In desperation, she took a page out of Hit Girl's book of fun and she reached up with both hands, sinking both thumbs deep into the bitch's eyes. Chloe felt her thumbs sink into something warm and moist – she ignored the intense bellow of pain and surprise from the behemoth who was crushing the life out of her. She thrust her thumbs in as deep as she could against the pressure of the eyeballs before both suddenly imploded under the pressure of Chloe's thrusts. The woman screamed bloody murder as she dropped Chloe and she clasped both hands to her face. Blood and whatever was in a human eye ran down the woman's face, oozing between her fingers. The woman sank to her knees, bellowing her anger. Chloe kicked the woman onto her back and then levelled her pistol at the woman's head.

"Stop!"

Chloe looked up at Becky as she ran forward. The little girl stared down at the woman, showing no emotions.

"Remember, what I said, you fucking blind witch?" Becky said calmly but coldly in a tone which surprised Chloe. "I told you that you were going to die and that I was going to enjoy watching you suffer."

The woman had paused in her throws of agony, and she listened to what Becky was saying.

"You won, you little wretch, congratulations!"

"Can I?" Becky asked as she looked up at Chloe.

Chloe nodded and she allowed Becky to wrap her smaller hands around the butt of the large pistol and pass her forefingers into the trigger guard.

"Just squeeze when you're ready, Peanut," Chloe whispered into the little girl's right ear.

"Go to hell!" Becky growled as she squeezed the trigger.

Chloe's arms absorbed the kick of the pistol as Agatha's head absorbed the bullet before exploding with the overpressure.

"Can we go home, now?" Becky asked as she released the pistol.

"Oh, yeah!"

..._...

Chloe grabbed Becky as she heard feet pounding on steel gratings, high above them. She leapt up the nearest ladder with Becky close behind her. They both ran towards the next ladder – then they stopped.

Men were approaching from all directions, grinning at Chloe as they advanced on her and Becky. Chloe did not wait, she simply opened fire with her H&K G36C, quickly dropping several men as she rapidly emptied a magazine before swiftly swapping out the empty magazine and replacing it with a full one. Her left leg screamed out in pain and as Chloe reached down, she felt wetness. As she probed the wound, she was relieved to find two holes in her pants, indicating that the bullet had passed cleanly through, and what felt like a flesh wound in the skin of her leg – no hole, she was pleased to find out!

Chloe scooped up Becky and she ran, firing short bursts from the G36C as she went. Her body was screaming out for rest but the adrenalin was flowing and it was keeping her muscles pumping, despite her injuries, and pushing her through and beyond the pain barrier. As they climbed up to 01-deck, Chloe reached into her webbing and she produced a detonator.

"Press the right button, Peanut," she suggested as she flicked up the safety.

Peanut did so and there was a mighty roar from the deck above them as the Dayglo-painted, starboard-side TEMPSC (Totally Enclosed Motor Propelled Survival Craft) exploded out over the water. Under the distraction of the burning craft, Chloe burst out onto the main deck, holding Becky by the hand and she ran for the gangway. Gunfire pursued them as men appeared on the port-side of the superstructure.

"Press the left button, Peanut."

Several men died as the port-side TEMPSC exploded, sending razor-sharp fibreglass scything through the men who had not been immolated by the fireball from the explosion.

* * *

 ** _Bournemouth International Airport_**

The police helicopter deposited them close to the main terminal and Keira grinned at the sight before her.

The helicopter had been there for an airshow. Yes, it was a relic, and it was to the final time such a helicopter would be on display. Nonetheless, it was flyable and, technically, it was available.

Keira showed her MI5 pass and the Royal Navy Lieutenant considered her request.

"You want me, a serving naval officer, to hand over to you, an ex-naval officer, a Seaking!"

"I need that helicopter . . . tell them I hit you."

The large man studied the shorter woman and he chuckled.

"Well, it has been a slow day and it would be good to have some fun. . ."

"Lieutenant, I will authorise this sortie," Commander Lawrence said as he handed the man a tablet.

The officer read through the signed document and he handed the tablet back.

"You got any ammo on that thing?" Keira asked.

"She is fully combat ready, despite her age," Lieutenant Peakes advised. "You taking the right seat?"

"Damn right!" Keira replied as she climbed aboard.

..._...

Fifteen minutes, later, Scorpion felt right at home behind the controls of the eight-tonne helicopter. The Seaking HAS Mk.6 vibrated as the twin Rolls-Royce Gnome H1400-2 turboshaft engines spun close to their maximum 1,660-shp, propelling the aircraft through the air at a little over 100 knots.

"Crew, Pilot – lock and load!"

Behind her, on the starboard side, the Petty Officer crewman racked back the action of the doorway-mounted 7.62-mm, belt-fed, General Purpose Machine Gun (GPMG).

Flight time was to be a little over ten minutes – Scorpion just hoped that Shadow had that much time.

* * *

 ** _Southampton Container Terminal_**

They had run down the gangway and they had continued running until they had reached the perceived safety of the Range Rover Sentinel.

Once there, Chloe shoved Becky into the front passenger seat and then ran around to the driver's side and jumped in.

"Buckle up, honey!"

While Becky did so, she started to talk.

"It wasn't Urban Predator that made me what I am – I wasn't there long enough for them to brainwash me," Becky explained. "It was the men that took me - they made me cold and they made me into a killer. They humiliated me and made me do dangerous stuff for them. I stole for them. I became a criminal for them. I learnt to pick locks. I learnt to stab people in the heart – from the front and from the back. I learnt to. . ."

Becky burst into tears, surprising Chloe who was busy driving at speed towards the exit from the facility.

"I'm a bad person, Chloe. You don't want me. I'm a bad person."

Chloe slammed on the brakes, then she grabbed hold of Becky and locked directly into her deep brown eyes.

"Don't you _ever_ say that, Peanut! You are _not_ a bad person. A bad person would not have helped Shannon to escape. I know bad people and I can see that you are a good person inside who was forced to do bad things. Trust me, Rebecca – I am never going to leave you."

Chloe went back to concentrating on her driving as she pulled away.

..._...

The sixteen-year-old was very tired and that tiredness was creeping up on her, despite her intensive vigilante training.

First, she missed the turning for the M271 motorway, and then after a couple more miles, she looped around the next roundabout and she headed back towards the roundabout which would take her onto the M271, then she drove straight into a trap laid by Chloe herself!

A truck pulled out of a side road – Chloe was driving at over ninety on the A35 dual-carriageway . . . she had no time to stop, only to slow down and veer off at the same side road, the B3076. A white van was blocking the road ahead, a couple hundred yards ahead, and Chloe was forced to take a left turn, passing back under the A35 dual-carriageway. She smashed through a horizontal barrier with a Mitsubishi Shogun in obvious pursuit. She took a left and raced past several trucks, zig-zagging to avoid a forklift truck with a very surprised operator. A second Shogun appeared from the left and Chloe was forced to jink to the left and then to the right.

A heavy gate was set to the left and Chloe opted for a narrow lane, heading southeast. The track was raised up a couple of feet above boggy marshland and as Chloe looked ahead, the headlights illuminating their rickety pathway, she realised that she had made a grave error which could, and probably would, get them both killed. Ahead, the pathway turned ninety-degrees to the left at the base of a large electricity pylon.

Then Chloe bounced over a large rut and the vehicle skidded off the side of the pathway and dropped two feet. Chloe shook her head to clear it and she gently eased the heavy vehicle forward. The four-wheel-drive system easily handled the muddy, boggy ground as she turned the vehicle around. Ahead of her, she could make out two sets of headlights moving towards them – but then both oncoming vehicles stopped.

As the Sentinel rolled slowly forward, Chloe pulled out her binoculars and she looked over at the two vehicles. She blanched as she saw a man crouching down, about eighty yards away – he had something to his shoulder.

..._...

Chloe slammed on the brakes and she threw open her door, grabbing Becky and yanking her out of her seatbelt and over the centre console.

Chloe dived onto the ground, dragging Becky with her, and she ran from the Sentinel . . . just in time. There was a blinding flash, followed by the whoosh of a rocket and seconds later, an enormous explosion followed. Chloe felt the heat wash over her as she kept her face and Becky's down to the ground. Becky looked up after a minute and she looked back at the Sentinel.

"I guess we're not going to be leaving, now . . . right?"

It was more statement than question as they both stared at the burning wreckage of what was once an expensive armoured vehicle, not to mention their only way of escape.

"I'm sorry, Peanut."

"You don't have to be sorry; it wasn't your fault."

Chloe's heart sank as she saw armed men closing in on them. All of her own weapons were cooking away happily in the Sentinel, a little over a dozen yards away. Chloe hugged Becky to her as they crouched down on the grass. Chloe studied the closest man as he approached but then she started for a moment as the man was quite literally blasted apart while tufts of dirt flew into the air and a stream of green tracer bullets tore the man apart.

 _"Shadow, this is Scorpion, stand by for pickup!"_

Chloe looked up as a large helicopter roared overhead in a tight right-hand bank, a door-gunner raining death down upon anybody who came close to her and Becky.

..._...

Chloe had never been so happy to find herself aboard a helicopter – even a noisy one like the ageing Seaking.

Beside Chloe, Becky huddled into her new friend. Across the cabin, a satisfied looking Petty Officer sat keeping an eye on the new passengers. Scorpion had given the crew a few key reasons for why they were doing what they were doing. A few remarks about how they were rescuing an eight-year-old girl who had suffered immense hardship and abuse at the hands of a bunch of bastards, had been all that was needed for the crew to give their all.

"Kaitlin is going to kill me – look what I did to her clothes," Becky said unhappily

"She'll be okay – if I know that girl, a quick trip to the store and she'll be fine," Chloe replied.

Forty minutes later, the helicopter settled onto the grass beside the MI5 Safehouse.

* * *

 _This storyline continues in_ **Chapter 328: So Many Changes** _of_ **Forsaken** _and simultaneously in_ **Chapter 24: Family** _of_ **Vengeance**.


	24. Family

**_Wednesday, September 14th, 2016_**

 ** _MI5 Safehouse, Blandford Forum_**

Immediately after breakfast, before everybody left to travel home, Mindy gathered together all the _Predators_ – a plan which Dave had thought very unwise.

"Now _this_ is ominous!" Kaitlin pointed out as she sat down beside her cousin.

Mindy chuckled as she smiled reassuringly at the eight-year-old as well as the other assembled _Predators_. Cassie left the room pulling the door closed behind her, a Taser held in her hand.

"I just wanted to speak with you all, personally. All of you here represent the majority of our rescued _Predators_. As such, I want to thank you all for your support and for your allegiance. Yes, I am to blame for what you all now call your lives. When I first came across the nine-year-old Stephanie Walker, and I found out what she was . . . I was stunned. I was also very angry that somebody could do something so cruel to what I _thought_ was such a lovely little girl."

Electra and Saoirse both snorted at Mindy's comment drawing a nasty glare from Stephanie.

"Yes, I know that while Stephanie _looks_ like a sweet little girl on the outside, she is very different inside and I blame myself for that. She was forced to endure a life of hell from the age of six. I became very attached to Stephanie and during a rare moment of weakness, we took her into our family. I have never regretted that moment . . . no, Saoirse, 'Lectra – never!"

Stephanie gave Saoirse and Electra a very smug look indeed to which the two girls just stuck their tongues out at Stephanie.

"One key aspect I insisted on when we recovered a _Predator_ , was that he or she should be given a choice as to their future. Nobody is being forced to become a vigilante and I don't want any of you to think that you are, not for one moment. Don't feel bad about rejecting the life you were forced into. Your friends will accept your decision and I, for one, will not look on you any different. I think that you are all exceptionally brave just to have made it this far. If any of you have difficulty coming to a decision on what you want to do with your life then please – come and talk to one of us in confidence.

"On that note, Stephanie and Saoirse are my representatives when it comes to _Urban Predator_. They are my senior _Predators_ and I don't give a fuck what Phase you were in, nor how old you are. When they are in uniform, they will both be afforded the same respect that any of you would expect to receive. However, when they are not in uniform, please feel free to kick the living shit out of the cocky bitches!"

Loud, raucous laughter rang out at Saoirse and Stephanie's expense – they both grinned and took it on the chin.

"As some of you will know, Stephanie was temporarily elevated to a support position while she was healing. That is an option open to any one of you who wishes to remain involved but who does not wish to face combat or the possibility of having to take another life. On the subject of Stephanie, I am very pleased to announce that she will keep her new _Fusion_ rank of Operator from this point on. Congratulations, Stephanie!"

Stephanie looked stunned at the news.

"God!" Saoirse complained. "She's going to be impossible to live with now. . ."

"Fear it, bitch!"

* * *

 ** _Early that afternoon_**

 ** _Safehouse VL, London_**

"The wait is killing me!"

"That is why we are here – to support you."

"Thanks, Steph."

"I understand that you were a Yellow," Jamie said.

"Yeah – you were, too – fun, wasn't it?"

"It had its moments. I enjoyed the power of being able to force older kids to strip naked and make them do as I said."

"Yes, that was the good side. The first time I ordered a twelve-year-old girl to strip, she gave me a glare so bad I almost burst into tears . . . but she did – she knew that she had no choice. I enjoyed seeing their faces when they had to use the buckets – talk about embarrassing!"

"When you two have quite finished!" Stephanie grumbled. "You two might have enjoyed it but us _Predators_ did not. I for one spent longer in that damn Cage than most and it was pure hell thanks to you fucking Yellows!"

"Sorry, Steph – I know; I experienced it from the other side, too," Jamie admitted.

"So, did I," Electra added. "I tried to be nice to you, Steph."

"Yes, you did – which was why I taught a little girl to look after herself."

"Look where it got me!" Electra quipped as she hugged Stephanie.

"I can come back when you two have finished fucking your brains out. . ." Mindy growled.

"We're good, thank you, mother!" Stephanie replied stiffly.

..._...

"Grandpa!"

"You look a lot better, Electra," Patrick Haig offered as he hugged his granddaughter.

Electra was dressed in clothing which was a lightyear away from the body armour of the previous evening. The nine-year-old girl was wearing a set of blue dungarees over a light-blue blouse with blue trainers completing the ensemble. Mindy had taken extra care (with Stephanie's help) to ensure that Electra was well presented for her family. Electra's chestnut brown hair was tied up in twin plaits.

"Thanks."

"Didn't you wear glasses?"

Electra turned to see her fourteen-year-old brother.

"Simon!" Electra yelled as she ran at her brother, wrapping her arms around the boy's waist.

"Hi, Electra . . . I've really missed my little sister," Simon replied as she hugged Electra, tears running down his cheeks.

Electra sat with her grandfather and brother for another hour, talking – Mindy, Dave, Stephanie, and Jamie sat in another room, talking amongst themselves.

..._...

"Mindy?"

"Commander."

"May I, please, speak with your daughter?"

"Stephanie? Of course, Commander."

Stephanie looked up at the tall man, who was smiling down at her. Stephanie felt apprehensive and a little worried.

"Hello, Stephanie – I believe that we have you to thank for keeping my granddaughter alive."

"I, err – maybe. . ."

"Wow," Mindy chuckled. "Stephanie short of words!"

"I did what I thought was right. Electra helped me when I was in trouble and I chose to bend the rules and give her a little guidance. Turned out to be a good idea – until she got thrown into an exercise and she was hurt."

"I heard about the Duct Tape incident!" Commander Haig laughed.

"I did what I could – I wish she wasn't hurt but those bastards really didn't give a shit. I assume you know that the girl who gave Electra her scars was with us, last night?"

"I do. Electra explained that, after a rocky start, you have all put your differences behind you. From what I hear there is no blame and I do not put any blame on you or Abigail. If anything, I should thank you for keeping her alive."

"How much did she tell you?" Stephanie asked.

"She told me how you met. About your week of hell."

"Yeah – it was pretty bad," Stephanie admitted. "Electra helped me through the worst of it."

"I hope you two stay in contact when you go back to Chicago, Stephanie. You will always be welcome over here and I know that Electra will miss you – she really looks up to you."

Stephanie really did _not_ know what to say.

..._...

Two hours later, it was time for each to go their separate ways. Mindy and Dave could see the emotions building up in Stephanie as she hugged Electra tightly. The same emotions were mirrored in the younger girl's face. It was only seconds before there was a severe risk of major flooding.

"You stay safe, 'Lectra – if you need anything. . ."

"I'll call you, Steph – you're my best friend and you always will be. Promise me that you won't do anything stupid . . . _promise me_!

Stephanie was openly sobbing as she replied.

"I promise, 'Lectra."

"Please – can we end this before we need to issue flood warnings!" Mindy said quietly.

Stephanie sheepishly wiped her eyes and Electra did the same.

"I'll call you when we I get to my new home," Electra said.

"It'll need to wait until I am back in Chicago – I'll call you."

"On that note," Mindy said. "This is a special cell phone for Electra. Only her fingerprint can activate it. All calls and data are fully encrypted. I'll make sure Steph calls you on it the moment she is back home in Chicago."

"Thank you, Mindy – I owe you a lot for putting up with me," Electra said as she gave Mindy a big hug.

"As Steph said – you need anything, 'Lectra. . ."

* * *

 ** _That same evening_**

 ** _Blairhoyle House, Scotland_**

Cassie was just getting herself ready for bed, after what had been a very busy few days and she was very tired.

Just as she slid beneath her duvet with an audible sigh of relief, there came a gentle knock on her bedroom door. Cassie groaned - it had to be one of the girls, although the knock sounded like Kaitlin – yes, the two girls knocked on doors differently.

"Come in!"

It turned out to be _both_ girls – Naomi appeared to be following at the behest of her younger cousin and the older girl had a confused and slightly bewildered expression on her face. Kaitlin, however, appeared to be on a mission, and she proceeded to climb onto the bed where she sat looking up at Cassie, who took the hint and she sat up in the bed. Cassie looked over at Naomi who simply shrugged and maintained her bewildered expression. Whatever it was, it was Kaitlin's show. Kaitlin, herself, began to look uneasy and her expression was a mixture of hope and longing, but with worry and sadness mixed in as well.

"Cassie . . . I . . .," Kaitlin was struggling with her words – not usually a problem for the eight-year-old. "I need somebody that I can call 'Mum' . . . I miss not having a Mum. . ."

Cassie felt a knot in her stomach. It had to happen at some stage, she thought; the girls needed more than she, a mere nineteen-year-old, could give. A wave of sadness swept over Cassie and she felt like her heart was about to shatter. Kaitlin must have noticed the change in Cassie, because she smiled.

"I want _you_ to be my Mum, Cassie. Can I call _you_ my Mum, please?"

Cassie was stunned and by the looks on Naomi's face, so was she. However, it was Naomi who spoke first.

"Kaitlin – fucking hell! You can't go asking Cassie that!"

"Why not? She can be your Mummy too."

"We're cousins, not sisters."

"Look, I know we both love Cassie and I know that Cassie loves us both. I also know that, really deep down, you love me too. Cassie has been there for us, through everything. She does everything a mother should do: she loves us, she looks after us, she protects us, she disciplines us. Don't you want somebody that you can call 'Mum'?"

Naomi's expression betrayed her innermost feelings as Cassie found her voice.

"If that is what you both want, then I would be honoured to be your mother. I do love you both, very much, and I would hate for us to ever be separated."

Kaitlin's face lit up like Blackpool illuminations.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Thursday, September 15th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle House_**

Alexandra was up early, as was usual.

She walked past the girls' bedroom and after peeking inside the open door and seeing the ominously empty beds, she walked over to Cassie's bedroom door and she knocked softly. Hearing no answer, she pushed open the door and then she smiled as she saw the bed very full, with three girls tucked under the duvet fast asleep.

After another minute, Cassie opened her eyes and she smiled up at her mother.

"I think, I've just become a Mum," she said simply as something wriggled beside her.

"Hi, Grandma," Kaitlin grinned.

Alexandra smiled happily.

"You couldn't have picked a lovelier pair of little girls," Alexandra admitted. "And they could not have picked a lovelier young lady as their Mother."

"I agree," Naomi said as she squirmed out from under the duvet. "About the Mother bit – not sure about how lovely we really are, though."

"She talking about us?" Kaitlin queried.

"You're both perfect," Cassie countered as she hugged the two little girls.

* * *

 ** _Later that afternoon_**

"Hi, Andy!"

"Kaitlin – you know he hates being called that," Cassie pointed out.

"Sorry, Andrew."

"No problem, Kaitlin."

"Can you two talk nicely while I go get changed?"

"I'll keep Andrew happy," Kaitlin grinned.

Once Cassie had vanished, Kaitlin turned to Andrew.

"We don't see you around much but I know you spend a lot of time with Cassie."

"Is there a question there?"

"How long have you two been fucking?"

Andrew laughed.

"That is not a question which a young lady should be asking," he cautioned. "It is also a question which I shall not be responding to."

"Okay. Tell us about yourself," Kaitlin ordered without missing a beat.

"I'm twenty-years-old and I live in Falkirk. I am a computer engineer and I work in Edinburgh. Happy?"

"Not really. Do you love Cassie or is she just a piece of juicy pussy for you to stick your dick into?"

"Where _do_ you get that rubbish from?"

"One of my friends is twelve and he keeps dirty magazines under his mattress: Mayfair, Penthouse, Playboy – that kind of thing. I read the pages that aren't stuck together."

Andrew chuckled at the little girl who appeared to show absolutely no visible embarrassment when talking about sex.

"Kaitlin, I love Cassie very much. We've been together for almost a year and . . . can you keep a secret?"

"I can."

"You know I'm taking Cassie out, tonight?"

"I do."

"Well, I'm going to propose to her over dinner."

Kaitlin grinned happily.

"You know that Cassie's just become a Mum, don't you?"

"Yes, Kaitlin. I know – Cassie couldn't wait to tell me the news this morning. You and your cousin – or is that 'sister' now – you are both amazing little girls and while more than a little strange, I could do worse."

Kaitlin giggled happily.

"You two been good?" Cassie asked as she reappeared in a figure-hugging dress.

"I always am, Mum," Kaitlin replied sweetly.

"What have you done to my little Kaitlin?"

"Oh, she started normal for Kaitlin but then she started talking like an eight-year-old little girl."

Kaitlin was still smiling sweetly.

"Let's go – she's scaring me," Cassie suggested.

"You be good, now, Mummy!" Kaitlin smirked.

"Quick, before her head starts spinning!"

* * *

 ** _That same evening_**

 ** _Beacon Croft, Scotland_**

Amy Montgomery was more than happy to see her men returning in one piece.

It was a first for her. For twenty years, it had been her husband going off to sea for months on end with the odd conflict here and there. Then, within weeks of her son coming back from the dead, she was saying goodbye to both her husband and her son as they went off to fight against organised crime in their own country!

"Honey – we're both safe and neither one of us is injured," David Montgomery advised his wife as they kissed. "We're awaiting a replacement engine from Turbomeca and some parts from Westland, so there was no point in hanging around."

Craig Montgomery was hugged by his mother before the boy ran off upstairs.

* * *

 ** _Earlier that evening_**

 ** _Marchmont Crescent, Edinburgh_**

The unmarked Vauxhall hatchback pulled up to the side of the Safehouse and four people climbed out – one with obvious reluctance.

Amber Dawson was escorted into the ground floor property and then upstairs to the smaller of the first-floor bedrooms. There, she was handed a packet of sandwiches, some crisps, and a bottle of water. The door was then closed and locked. The two men and a woman then settled down for the night, one of the men remaining on the first-floor mezzanine while the other two MI5 agents headed downstairs to find some coffee.

All four had enjoyed a lengthy drive home from the West Country that day and were very tired. Amber ate her meagre rations before she undressed and slipped under the plain white duvet – she was soon fast asleep.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Friday, September 16th_**

 ** _Moss-Side Hall, Stirling_**

"What do you _mean_ , you're stuck in Glasgow!"

 _"I'm sorry – traffic is hell and we've stopped for lunch."_

"You know I've got an appointment, and I have _her_ with me."

"Excuse _me_ – 'her' has a name; 'her' is called, Jessica!"

"Sorry, Jess," Jasper chuckled before turning back to the phone.

 _"So, take her with you,"_ Lynn Collins suggested.

"I'll see you later, honey."

* * *

 ** _Veng_** ** _e_** ** _ance Command Centre_**

"Girls!"

"What about me?"

"Sorry, Craig – still getting used to having a boy around the place," Natasha apologised.

"All of you – go train. Jasper is coming over and I want to at least _try_ and make this place appear professional!"

"We can do that. . ." Kaitlin grinned.

"Honey – do anything out of turn and your little bottom will not be sitting down for a week," Natasha advised.

"I'm a perfect little angel!" Kaitlin preened as she ran off laughing.

"Us too!" Harper added as she and Naomi ran after Kaitlin.

"I do _not_ deserve this," Craig muttered as he followed the girls.

* * *

 ** _Forty minutes later_**

"What is this place, Jasper?"

"Just a place I'm meeting somebody, Jess. Now – you stay in the car, understood?"

"Yes, Jasper."

..._...

"Morning, Natasha!"

"Good morning to you, Jasper – come on in, we have coffee and cake in the Orangery."

"Sounds good! Let's get down to business . . . _Vengeance_ appears to have had some fun down south."

Cameron and Cassie grinned as Natasha and Jasper sat down.

..._...

A further forty minutes later, the young Jessica Kensington was getting very bored.

Finally, the eleven-year-old had had enough and she decided to go in search of Jasper. She pushed open the back door of the Jaguar and climbed out. The house was large and old. The left section was covered in ivy. Over to the right was a large glass-enclosed greenhouse. Jessica headed around to the left, following a gravel pathway which led away from the house. The young girl's curiosity got the better of her and she continued along the pathway until she reached what appeared to be an enclosed courtyard with stone buildings on three sides.

"Who are you?" a voice called out.

Jessica turned to see a young girl, at least a year or so younger than herself. The girl was shorter, and she had light brown hair which was tied up in a ponytail. The girl wore a navy-blue T-shirt along with a pair of navy-blue shorts. On the left breast of the T-shirt were a pair of sabres which formed a 'V'. Jessica's mouth dropped open in recognition.

"I know you – I've seen you at school. . ."

The girl dived at Jessica who found herself roughly twisted around and then slammed against the side of one of the buildings.

"Let go of me," she called out, but the younger girl had her easily pinned.

Jessica then found herself frogmarched out of the courtyard before she found herself up close and personal with the lawn.

..._...

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Cassie demanded as she heard a shout and then a scream.

Seconds later, Eric's voice echoed throughout the facility, "Security breach! Sector four!"

Cassie bolted out of her chair, closely followed by Natasha, Cameron, and Jasper. En route, Cassie grabbed a G36K while Cameron and Natasha produced pistols. As they burst outside and ran towards the noise they stopped dead as they saw a girl pinned to the ground, her face almost buried in the grass. The girl was sobbing as Naomi knelt with her knee in the girl's lower back. Kaitlin stood over her, a pistol pointed at her head. Keira and Harper appeared next along with Craig.

"Jess!" Jasper exclaimed.

"Don't move!" Kaitlin ordered as Jessica made to move her head.

"She's with you?" Cameron demanded of Jasper.

"Yes – she's my step-daughter."

"Fuck!" Natasha growled.

With a click of his fingers, Cameron waved everybody inside and he then picked the sobbing girl up off the ground, keeping her head down so that she could not see any more faces.

..._...

"So – what do we do with her?" Natasha asked a few minutes later once the girl had been secured.

"I could slit her throat," Naomi suggested.

"You, bloodthirsty, little bitch – that's _my_ daughter. . ."

Jasper halted his advance on Naomi as Kaitlin aimed her pistol unerringly at his head.

"Don't you dare touch my cousin, motherfucker, or I put a new hole in your head!"

"Kaitlin – stand down!"

Jasper was _very_ concerned. The eyes of both girls were just like those he had seen on MI6 agents who killed for a living – dark and foreboding; full of death.

"Hey!" Cassie exclaimed. "Nobody is killing anybody. Jasper, _you_ fucked up – _you_ brought an outsider into our facility. That girl saw Prowl's face."

"She recognised me – we go to the same school," Naomi admitted.

"We swear her to secrecy," Keira suggested.

"She'll put two and two together; then lock onto a certain troublemaker: Glide," Naomi commented.

"I am _not_ a troublemaker!" Kaitlin retorted.

"Can she be trusted, Jasper?" Cameron asked the MI5 agent.

"She's eleven-years-old but very responsible. I can swear her to secrecy and keep it just between us. The poor girl is scared to death."

"You're not kidding," Kaitlin commented as she looked through the one-way window at the young girl who sat on a steel chair which was bolted to the floor.

Beneath the sobbing, frightened girl, a pool of liquid gathered.

..._...

Jessica Kensington looked up as the door to the interrogation room opened and two people entered.

"Jasper!"

"Hey, Jess – I am _so_ sorry."

Jessica looked up at her step-father as he approached.

"They're vigilantes, aren't they."

It was more statement than question.

"I did tell you to stay in the car," Jasper pointed out. "Go with Naomi, here, and she'll get you cleaned up and changed."

..._...

"You're a vigilante, aren't you?" Jessica asked Naomi as she showered.

"Yes, Jessica – I am Prowl."

"You're nine, yes?"

"Correct."

There was no more conversation for a few minutes as Jessica finished her shower and dried herself off. She quickly pulled on a loaned T-shirt, and shorts. Jessica looked down at the 'V' insignia on her left breast and she smiled.

"You can never tell a soul about what you have seen today, or people may die. Secrecy is crucial to our operation. Your Dad'll be able to tell you more, I suppose."

"He's my step-dad. Several months back, my parents were murdered – me and my sister were shot. Jasper lost his daughter in the same attack. We moved to Scotland just a couple months ago."

"I'm sorry. I lost my parent's too."

"I promise you: I won't say anything. I think _Vengeance_ is awesome – maybe. . ."

"You're not like us – you don't want this life, Jessica."

..._...

Jessica had a very sheepish expression on her face as she rejoined the others in the Orangery. Jasper looked down at the young girl who appeared very fragile as she felt the stares from the other adults who were present.

"I still have some work to do, Jess. So, while your clothes are drying, I want you stay here with Naomi, and she will introduce you to the other junior members of _Vengeance_."

"Yes, Jasper."

"Oh, Jess?"

"Yes, Jasper."

"Don't wander off, understand?"

"Yes, Jasper."

Once Jasper and the other adults had left the room, Jessica looked around as two other girls and a boy walked in and sat down. They each watched her intently.

"I'm Naomi, as you know. The trigger-happy short-ass, here; she is my cousin, Kaitlin."

"My name is Harper."

"I'm Craig."

"Hi, I'm Jessica, but you can call me, Jess – I prefer that."

"Fancy a drink, Jess?" Naomi asked with a smile.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Moss-side Hall_**

Jessica kept her mouth shut during dinner, and it was not until after dinner that Lynne cornered her husband.

"What's wrong with Jessica?" she asked of her husband.

Jasper took a deep breath before continuing.

"Jess got a bit nosy, today, at the HQ. One of the girls caught her snooping and she was attacked. . ."

"What!?"

"She's fine – but her clothes needed to go through the wash – she recognised one of the girls and now she knows all of the kids. Two of the girls, and a boy, go to the same school as Jess, Olivia, and Chris. It would have come out. Jess knows not to say anything and I trust her."

"Oh, God, Jasper!"


	25. Code Alpha

**_Sunday, September 18th, 2016_**

 ** _London_**

Electra felt both happy and safe for the very first time in many, many months.

She had her family, only, she missed her true family. Her true family was that in which she had striven to survive. She longed for her _Predator_ family. Not that she would trade her blood relatives for anything. She missed everybody, especially Stephanie. Her brother was being as welcoming as he could be – although he was going a bit over the top at times. The breakfast in bed was a nice touch – at least on the first morning.

By the end of the fourth day, having somebody doing everything for her was getting too much and while she knew it was being done out of love, she had had enough.

"Simon!"

"Yes."

"Please – no more."

"What do you mean?"

"I may only be nine, but I can do some things for myself. I love everything that you are doing but it's gone a little far."

"Sorry – I was just. . ."

"I know."

Electra hugged her big brother tightly.

"I love you, Simon, I really do. Please ease up on the smothering."

"I will, Electra. I love you very much and I've missed having you around. It was like there was a hole. It's been worse not having Mum around and with Dad in intensive care."

"You are all I've thought about for years. I never thought that I would ever see any of you again."

"You've been through hell, as I understand it. It's just that you're my little sister."

Electra pulled off her T-shirt and the fourteen-year-old's eyes went wide as he took in the readily visible scars. His eyes followed the long scar that extended from the top left of his sister's torso down to the bottom right where it vanished into her underwear.

"I survived this – I can survive anything, Simon."

"Please – put your top back on. The attack on us was bad. I received two bullet wounds – both in my chest – which resulted in three months in hospital and many more months recovering. Mum took two bullets to the head. Dad took six bullets. Two skimmed his head and that appears to be what put him into a coma. Otherwise, his wounds have healed and he is perfectly healthy. We have no idea why he is still in a coma."

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London_**

Electra struggled with her emotions as they entered the hospital.

She followed her brother and grandfather as they wound unerringly through the myriad of corridors along a route which they had been following for years. A nurse awaited them and she pushed open a door so they could enter. A man lay in the bed and Electra recognised him instantly. It was her father – an older version of the boy who stood beside her, an arm around her shoulders.

"Hi, Daddy. It's Electra. I'm back."

Electra held her father's lifeless hand hoping for some reaction but nothing came.

"Daddy. . ."

Electra's tears flooded down her face and she squeezed her father's hand in desperation. She sat there and she sobbed on and off for a significant amount of time – almost an hour – before her grandfather said it was time to go. Electra reluctantly released her father's hand and she took her brother's hand and the three of them walked out of the room . . . but then they froze.

"Electra."

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

It was a relatively peaceful evening and Cassie was enjoying some valuable, quality time with her mother.

They used to spend time together a lot, but ever since Cassie had joined the fledgling _Vengeance_ , time was not her friend. She had her training to maintain. She had _Vengeance_ admin to complete. She had two little girls to keep on the straight and narrow – not an easy task. She also had a fiancé to entertain and hopefully maintain the secrecy of her nocturnal activities from him – the _Vengeance_ related nocturnal activities, not the rampant sex which Cassie enjoyed several times a week.

Her mother was very busy, too. She had a house to maintain, not to mention feeding Cassie as well as the ever-hungry Naomi and Kaitlin. Alexandra also missed her husband who was deploying for ever-longer periods of time into the vastness of the world's oceans. Life as a naval wife was fraught with worry but Alexandra had been doing it for years and she was able to cope readily thanks to the support of other wives and her daughters – one of whom was also away at sea, just like her husband. Cassie had never wanted to go to sea, unlike her elder sister. Cassie had her feet firmly on the ground, preferring life on land. As a young girl, Cassie had always enjoyed being on the water and the trips on Royal Navy vessels but her love was not the sea.

The mother and daughter conversation was suddenly halted as there came a thundering roar of feet from the stairs and then they heard a bitter voice.

"Oh, God . . . I'm scarred for life!" Craig yelled as he ran into the living room. "I think I'm gonna have to gouge my eyes out!"

Cassie grinned at the boy's horror.

"They're all dressed in pink and they're watching ponies on the TV – endless ponies!"

"They _are_ girls, Craig," Alexandra pointed out.

"Yeah, right! It was Kaitlin's idea and Harper agreed to play along, then Naomi joined in. They tried to force me to watch the entire first five seasons of My Little Pony – Friendship is Magic and what there is of the sixth. I endured _eight_ episodes and I can now name the Mane Six! I hate myself!"

"Poor Craig," Alexandra soothed with a huge grin.

"You _Predator_ boys are real pansies," Cassie commented. "I thought you would have some balls."

"Harper said I needed to get in touch with my inner pony," Craig went on. "Kaitlin forced me to cuddle her Princess Twilight Sparkle."

"Forced?" Cassie asked.

"I don't like hurting them – I know what they've been through and while I could have fought my way out, I like those girls a lot – it's like having three little sisters."

"You're a good guy, Craig. Don't worry about hurting them – they may be little girls but believe me, they can take it. A few bruises never hurt anyone," Cassie said with a grin.

"It's good having you around, Craig," Alexandra offered. "This family is all girls – a boy would have been nice. I'm used to bringing up little girls and dealing with bras and periods, but you are a breath of fresh air. Never change, Craig."

"Oy, butthead!" Kaitlin called as she stuck her head into the living room – her favourite purple pony under her arm. "Season two is just about to start!"

Craig smirked.

"I think a little eight-year-old girl needs her little arse kicked," Craig suggested as he stood up and glared at said eight-year-old.

Kaitlin's eyes went wide and she fled with a little squeal. Craig ran after her and before long, Kaitlin's very loud giggles could be heard down in the living room.

Cassie smiled and just shook her head.

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London_**

"Who said that?" Simon asked as he span around.

"Is that you, Electra?"

"How. . .?" Patrick questioned.

"Fuck, how!" Electra exclaimed as she ran over to her father's bed.

The man in the bed was smiling, his eyes open and he was looking directly at his daughter. Electra looked directly into the eyes which she had not seen for so long and she exploded into tears. Behind her, she could feel her brother as he stood close and she could hear him crying as they both held onto their father's hand.

"Daddy . . ." both youngsters said together.

"Nurse!" Patrick Haig called into the corridor.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Monday, September 19th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Little girls!"

"What's up, Cassie?"

"You know, Miss Hannigan had a point!" Cassie groused.

Alexandra laughed.

"First, they wouldn't get up. Then Kaitlin managed to flood the bathroom floor with water. Naomi slipped on the water and her skirt is soaked – she can't find her other skirt. Harper just encourages the other two girls to cause trouble making things worse, but at least she's dressed as I've got to get her to Edinburgh. Craig's lucky he went home last night."

Cassie sank down into a chair and buried her face in her hands.

"You were a little girl, not all that long ago, as I recall."

"But I never caused any trouble – I was always up and dressed for school," Cassie protested.

"Yes, you were always a good girl – bit timid, but a good girl."

"I wasn't timid!" Cassie bristled.

"You were scared stiff of your own shadow, Cassie."

Cassie scowled.

"That only happened just the once and now I'm never allowed to forget it!"

"Girls will be girls, Cassie."

"Tell me about it!"

* * *

 ** _That same morning_**

 ** _The town of Yeovil  
Southwest England_**

Unfortunately, like many kids, his parents were separated.

The eleven-year-old boy had spent most of his young life with his mother, then the occasional weekend with his Dad. The boy's name was Jeremy Lai and he was a perfectly normal boy for his age – at least _he_ thought so. The boy had no idea that over the next few weeks which he was spending with his father while his mother was in hospital, that he would endure the most amazing two weeks of his life as well as the scariest. He would face death. He would enter a secret community of vigilantes and he would watch them survive as they were hunted. Ultimately, he would watch them win.

So, where did his father come into the story. Well, he had been a Lieutenant in the British Army and he had flown Apache helicopters in combat. The man had been forced to leave the Army to look after his son when his ex-wife had fallen ill, but then she had been taken into hospital and he had custody of his son for the duration. As such, Trevor Lai had sought out suitable employment so he could support his son.

That morning, he had just completed a successful interview at what had once been Westland Helicopters but was now the UK arm of Leonardo-Finmeccanica after several mergers over the previous decades. His aim was to become a helicopter test pilot or to at least remain involved in military helicopter development.

"Trevor?"

Trevor stopped in the street – his mind had been very focussed on his interview – and he turned to see a familiar face.

"Keira!"

"What are you doing here?" Keira Sharp asked the man.

"I'm just on my way back from a job interview at the works."

"It went well?"

"I think so – fancy a coffee?"

"Why not."

..._...

"You still flying for the Navy?" Trevor asked his friend.

"No – I retired a few months back to look after my little sister. You still flying Apaches?"

"No – I retired a few months back to look after my son while my ex-wife is in hospital."

"Something bad?"

"Cancer – we don't know how bad, yet."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I – it's hard on Jeremy but he's a strong lad."

"You looking for a job in helicopters, huh?" Keira asked. "I might have something which would be right up your street."

"That would be nice! 'Right up my street' would be an armed helicopter which I could use to blast the crap out of those who wanted to harm our country."

"Funny you should say that. . ."

After some more catching up, the two friends went their own way.

* * *

 ** _Three days later  
Thursday, September 22nd_**

 ** _Counter Terrorism Command Headquarters  
An undisclosed location, London_**

 ** _10:00_**

"Commander!"

Commander Patrick Haig looked up from his desk as his door flew open.

"What is it, Sergeant," he asked testily.

"This just came over the wire."

Sergeant Woodward pushed a piece of paper onto her boss' desk. Commander Haig picked it up and he read the neat paragraphs of printed text.

"Shit!"

Patrick Haig abandoned his desk and he bolted out of his office and down three flights of stairs before he reached his car. He raced out of the parking garage and he sped home as fast as his wheels would take him.

..._...

"Hi, Grandpa. . ."

"Phone – the one Mindy gave you; I need to call _Vengeance_ , now!"

Electra dug into her pocket, her face full of confusion, and she produced the mobile which Mindy had given her. She pressed her finger onto the button which activated the phone and she selected the _Vengeance_ HQ from the contacts. She then passed the phone to her grandfather.

"Speak!" came the response from the other end.

"This is Commander Haig – they're coming for you! You have four hours at most, then they will deploy and take your facilities and assets."

 _"I need a codeword, Commander,"_ Eric replied as he followed protocol.

"Ratchet Six!" the Commander offered impatiently.

 _"Thank you, Commander – we will be in touch. Keep that mobile and Rigour safe."_

The mobile disconnected.

"What is it?" Electra asked – her expression cold.

" _Vengeance_ is in big trouble."

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Edinburgh, Scotland_**

 ** _10:25_**

The klaxon and the red strobe lights attracted everybody's attention, instantly.

 _"Code Alpha! Code Alpha!"_

Everybody froze as Eric's voice echoed around the facility. But then there was organised but frantic activity as everybody followed their set tasks. Prepacked 'Go Bags' were pulled out of cupboards and congregated together ready for transport. Combat suits were packed in readily available, made-for-the-task, packs. Personal weapons were stowed in the same packs. Pre-packaged weapon packs were placed aboard Sabre and Scimitar along with the Go Bags and freshly packed personal equipment.

Cameron and Natasha finished clearing and destroying any paperwork before they joined Cassie at the vehicles. Natasha would go with Cassie to fetch the two girls and Craig from their school while Cameron and Q would race into Edinburgh to get Harper. Eric had sent the same alert to Jasper who was busy scrambling his own family as well as down to Keira and David. Cassie had called Alexandra who was heading to collect Craig's mother, Amy.

The final person to leave the facility was Eric. The tech wiz began a data dump – all the data on their servers was already replicated across the Atlantic, so he began a secure data wipe which would take two hours to complete. As a backup, he set the timer on eighteen incendiary charges which would reduce the servers to molten slag in just forty seconds at the end of those two hours – or if anybody came within twenty feet of the data core.

Anything else which was classified but which they could not take with them would be destroyed in place and was gathered in the courtyard and liberally covered with powdered Thermite before two timed incendiary charges were laid in place. The paper and electronic files which were stored in the Safehouses and at _Thunderbolt_ were destroyed remotely. There were, however, certain parts of _Vengeance_ which were unknown to HMG – Mindy had insisted on it.

Four very surprised and worried kids were collected from school – a family emergency – and whisked off to their RV point in southern Scotland.

* * *

 ** _Royal Naval Air Station Yeovilton  
Southwest England_**

 ** _Hanger 8_**

 ** _14:10_**

Lieutenant Peakes was the Duty Officer and he ran towards the hanger with four, armed, Royal Navy Regulators hot on his heels.

He knew he was too late, even before the rating hauled open the steel access door. The sound of gas-turbines spinning up to take off power was readily audible as was the sound of the rapidly accelerating rotor blades. The five sailors watched as the helicopter rose a foot into the air, raising its undercarriage and moving forwards out into the open air. The Royal Naval Air Station's Executive Officer arrived in the hanger just as the armed helicopter increased power and accelerated for a fast take off.

"Lieutenant!" the Commander called out. "Is that helicopter armed and fully fuelled?"

"As per the training exercise you ordered two hours ago, sir – we had no idea it would bug out on us."

"You were ordered to prevent the launch, Lieutenant!"

"We got here too late, sir – I mislaid my cap."

The Commander chuckled as he looked at the rapidly disappearing aircraft.

"Good luck, Scorpion."

* * *

 ** _Leaderfoot  
Scottish Borders_**

 ** _14:40_**

It was Cassie who went ballistic and pressed Jasper to a wall, her pistol in his carotid artery.

"What the fuck is going on – _tell me_!"

"I have no idea, Cassie. . ."

"Pull the other one, it's got fucking bells on!" Cassie growled as she pushed the muzzle of the pistol in deeper threatening to cut off the man's blood flow to the brain.

"I received the order just forty minutes ago," an ashen-faced Jasper said in his defence. "I came with you before I knew that they were coming after you."

"Why has HMG thrown us to the wolves?" Natasha demanded.

The interrogation was interrupted by Cameron's mobile beeping. He answered it.

"Challenge: Echo One Seven!" Cameron barked down the phone.

 _"Red One Niner,"_ came the valid response which was _not_ a duress code.

"What the fuck is going on, Spook?"

 _"From what I can tell, I don't think they liked what you did to Fraser. I have been ordered to have you turn yourselves in for the duration."_

"Duration?"

 _"They didn't say. Does Cassie have a pistol to Jasper's throat?"_

"What makes you think that?" Cameron asked a little dumbfounded.

 _"I considered that you all might see Jasper as the enemy . . . and Cassie seems the type. Anyway, Jasper is innocent – apparently, the powers that be didn't trust him to give you all up. Not sure they really trust me, neither."_

At a wave from Cameron, Cassie took her pistol out of Jasper's throat and she released the man.

"I'm sorry, Jasper."

"That's okay, Cassie – I would have reacted the same way."

"We'd better go see if the kids have killed each other yet!" Cassie smiled.

* * *

 ** _Compton Abbas Airfield  
Two nautical miles southeast of Shaftesbury_**

 ** _19:00_**

He had no idea if he was even remotely doing the right thing.

The phone call had been cryptic but he had been intrigued. Intrigued enough to drive for an hour with his young son in tow, before catching a taxi from Shaftesbury town centre. Intrigued enough to be standing in the driving rain on the edge of a grass airfield at the top of a hill in the middle of nowhere.

"Dad – what are we doing here?"

"I dread to think. I trust Keira and she offered me a job with a very attractive pay packet attached."

"Doing what?"

"Flying, I hope."

..._...

Four minutes later, the unmistakeable sound of a helicopter approached the airfield and Trevor Lai stepped out of a small shelter to stare wide-eyed at what emerged out of the rain.

The helicopter was sleek and painted in a dark grey hue. The machine hovered two feet off the ground, undercarriage neatly stowed. What attracted his attention were the weapons' pylons hanging from the helicopter – it was no ordinary helicopter. He recognised it as an Agusta-Westland AW109LUH helicopter with some significant military-based customisations.

The helicopter slid sideways and moved around his car, pivoting to keep the nose pointed directly at Trevor. Then the wheels dropped and the aircraft settled down onto the grass forty feet away – the rotors continued to spin at speed. A door slid open on the port side and a form jumped down. The man was wearing a dark grey flight suit and a black flight helmet. At the man's hip, was a large-framed automatic pistol. The man waved them both forwards and then pointed into the cabin of the armed helicopter.

Trevor moved forwards, holding on tightly to his son with one hand and their kit with the other. The man waved them both aboard, lifting Jeremy up and helping him aboard. The moment the man climbed aboard, he slammed the door and spoke into his headset. Immediately, the helicopter began to move forwards and gain altitude very rapidly before turning to starboard and coming around onto a new course. Trevor and Jeremy were directed to a pair of seats upholstered in a sumptuous dark grey leather. Trevor quickly strapped himself in and then assisted his son. The man in the flight suit sat opposite them for a couple of minutes before he passed over a pair of wired communications headsets and pointed to the intercom jacks in the overhead.

"Hi, Trevor!" came a very familiar voice from the cockpit where a hand was raised in welcome.

"Hi, Keira – what is this?" Trevor asked cautiously.

"We are _Vengeance_ and this is _Twilight_."

* * *

 ** _Leaderfoot  
Scottish Borders_**

 ** _19:00_**

Mindy had been very thorough in her preparations.

There were stacks of pre-packaged equipment which would be essential for keeping _Vengeance_ operational until the fallout with Her Majesty's Government was worked out. Packs of machineguns, pistols, and explosives were securely packaged, ready for instant transport. As well as personal weapons and heavier man-portable weaponry, there were missiles, rockets, and cannon pods for the helicopters. Crates of spare parts, weapon pylons, and weapon wings. It was all there in perfect condition.

The only problem was loading all the kit onto the trucks which Mindy had also thought to provide.

* * *

 ** _A field  
East of Tisbury_**

 ** _19:25_**

The helicopter was surrounded on three sides by tall trees.

 _Twilight_ was quiet – rotors still. Inside, safe from the wind and rain, Keira grinned as Trevor studied a pack of documents which his friend had given him. Technical documentation, schematics, specifications. It was all there and related to another helicopter which Trevor instantly recognised to be a McDonnell Douglas Helicopters MD 530F Cayuse Warrior with various upgrades and modifications.

"What are you selling me?"

"That is _Scourge_ – you are Raptor. Chief?"

The Chief passed over a large crew bag which Trevor took and he opened it up to find A flight helmet, a flight suit, flying boots, and a flak jacket similar to that worn by his friend. The flight suit bore a patch over the left breast: **VENGEANCE** and **RAPTOR** were embroidered above and below a set of Army wings.

'Damn!' Trevor thought as he looked down at the incredulous expression on his son's face.

"You want me to fly for _Vengeance_?"

Trevor knew who they were but he had no idea that they had armed helicopters.

"We are in big trouble, right now. We need to recover our other helicopter and we need another pilot. After our meeting, the other day, you were cleared as suitable. Now, we really need you, Trevor."

"Where is this helicopter?"

"Now, that is the big problem . . . it's at Boscombe Down."

..._...

"You want to steal a helicopter from a secure Government airfield?!"

"It is kind of our helicopter and it will be a quick in and out."

"I . . . Christ!"

"Time is against us, Trevor," Keira pointed out.

"Boscombe Down?"

"Yep."

"Fucking MoD Boscombe Down?"

"Yep."

"They catch us, they'll throw away the key."

"Yep."

"They'll shoot us on sight."

"Yep."

"It's important we get that helicopter?"

"Yep."

"Really crucial, lives are at risk, type situation?"

"Yep."

"Should I survive this madness, would I be the pilot of said helicopter?"

"Yep."

"Okay, we're in," Jeremy piped up from beneath an oversized flight helmet and his father shrugged.

"Yep," Trevor confirmed.

* * *

 ** _Twilight_**

 ** _19:45_**

"So, Scorpion – the plan?" Raptor prompted as he sat in the co-pilot's seat, wearing his new flight suit, flying boots, flight helmet, and flak jacket with weapons.

"A Wildcat helicopter is inbound to Boscombe and it has permission to land directly outside Shelter 19 which just so happens to house _Scourge_. Now, due to an admin mix-up, _Scourge_ is fully fuelled and armed."

"An 'admin mix-up'?"

"We have friends in low places."

"Do I assume that _we_ are that Wildcat helicopter?"

"We are. A Wildcat helicopter was injected into the schedule and we are expected. We expect to have twenty minutes to pre-flight and get the hell out of dodge."

"Will they target us?"

"I hope not or it'll be a very short trip back to the ground. They have multiple Rapier batteries, although we expect them to be at low readiness. The bigger problem is the mobile Starstreak system which has a higher readiness – they have two units at the airfield."

"Countermeasures on _Scourge_ and _Twilight_?"

"HIDAS 15 will provide laser warning, hostile fire indication, directional infrared countermeasures, and radio frequency countermeasures."

"You've read the manual!" Raptor laughed. "Just testing."

The rest of the flight was in silence as they entered the approach pattern for MoD Boscombe Down. Scorpion responded to the challenge and directions from the tower as they were acknowledged and directed in for a landing in the driving rain close to the shelter which held _Scourge_. Jeremy was seated in the back of the helicopter, wearing a flak jacket, under the watchful eyes of the Chief.

The decent was quick and within minutes, the undercarriage oleos were compressing as they landed on the hardstanding outside Shelter 19.

* * *

 ** _Scottish Borders_**

 ** _19:45_**

Many miles to the northeast, the three trucks thundered through the night down the A68.

Each Bedford TM 6-6 truck roared as the 8.2-litre engines powered over eight-tonnes of cargo each, southbound and into England. Along with them came a precious human cargo spread out ahead and behind the convoy of precious supplies.


	26. Thetis

**_Thursday, September 22nd, 2016_**

 ** _MoD Boscombe Down  
Shelter 19_**

 ** _19:58_**

As the rotor blades wound down, Scorpion jumped out with Raptor and they both moved over towards the rear of the curved bomb-resistant structure to the left of the shelter outside which they had landed.

The hardened concrete structure attached to the rear of the aircraft shelter had a recessed doorway, about one hundred metres from _Twilight_ , was secured by a simple cypher lock which took less than a minute to defeat. Scorpion took a deep breath as she hauled open the outer door and passed into a small anti-room before hauling open another door and passing through into the main aircraft storage area. The lights were on and they illuminated a snub-nosed helicopter which sat in the centre of the hanger.

The McDonnell Douglas MD530F Cayuse Warrior was powered by a single Rolls-Royce Model 250-C30HU Turbine Engine. The T-shaped tail towered eight-feet nine-inches above the concrete floor and was painted a matt pale grey. From that Tail to the glazed nose, was 32-foot eight-inches. The helicopter, painted in an overall glossy dark grey with matt pale grey skids, was topped off by its 27-foot four-inch diameter, five-bladed main rotor. Below the cockpit was a black-painted protrusion which housed the targeting sensors and forward-looking infra-red cameras.

Raptor and Scorpion immediately began to preflight the helicopter.

..._...

A hundred yards away, the Chief and Jeremy were keeping an eye out, peering out into the driving rain.

 _"All clear – send him over,"_ Scorpion called.

"Off you go, lad – head straight to the rear of the aircraft shelter and you'll find Scorpion waiting for you."

"Thanks, Chief!"

The boy dashed out of the helicopter and into the driving rain, racing in the direction that his father had headed, just twenty minutes earlier. As the eleven-year-old boy came around the aircraft shelter, he found Scorpion awaiting his arrival.

"Come on!" Scorpion said as she hustled Jeremey inside the capacious hanger which was capable of housing Typhoon and Tornado fighter jets.

Jeremy's young eyes went wide as he took in the helicopter which sat on its skids before him. His eyes were immediately drawn to the weapon wing which had been installed in the rear section of the aircraft. Hanging off the wing were an array of six weapons occupying all six of the available hard points. The two inboard pylons each held a 7.62-millimetre M134D minigun. Next came a pair of M260 seven-round rocket launchers. Finally, on the tips of the weapon wing were a pair of four-foot long cylindrical launch tubes, each of which housed a single Raytheon Griffin B air-to-ground, precision low-collateral damage missile. Jeremy peeked into the rear of the helicopter where two large magazines housed 1,500-rounds of ammunition for the miniguns.

"Nose out, boy!" Scorpion laughed as she closed and latched the composite door covering up the opening over the weapon wing. "Climb in!"

The cockpit was state-of-the-art with two large full-colour flat-screens mounted in a vertical centre console. Beneath those screens, standard analogue instruments were spread across the console along with the satellite navigation system. Extending between the two pilot seats, a centre console housed two touch-screen computers, radios, and weapons switches. Ahead of both seats was a heads-up-display with a single blue reticule for firing the guns and rockets. In the right seat, Jeremy's father sat, setting up the aircraft's computer and checking out the engines and other critical systems before starting the engine. Scorpion helped the boy into the left seat, strapped him in and adjusted the boy's flight helmet. After connecting up the communications leads, Scorpion closed and latched the hatch.

"Can you hear me, Jeremy?" Scorpion asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Can you hear _me_?" Raptor asked.

"Yes, Raptor."

"From now on, you will be called: Harrier," Scorpion advised the boy.

"Harrier?"

"Yes – your codename," Scorpion explained. "We never use our real names during _Vengeance_ activities, nor when wearing our uniforms."

"I understand, Scorpion."

..._...

"Ready to start!" Raptor announced.

"Go!" Scorpion announced as she pulled out all the red safety tags from the weapons and held them up for Raptor to see.

With an increasing whine, the Rolls-Royce gas turbine started up and wound up the revolutions to operating speed. Then the main rotor and tail rotor began to spin, increasing speed to around 6,000-revolutions-per-minute. The sound was debilitating within the tight confines of the aircraft shelter. Scorpion ran for the main doors where she deactivated the warning siren and flashing amber warning lights before hitting the button to open the main blast doors. Raptor gave Scorpion a thumbs-up as she bolted out of the opening doorway and towards her own helicopter here the Chief was setting the rotors turning just as red lights began to flash around the airfield – Scorpion knew that they were on borrowed time even if she could not hear the sound of the raucous klaxon which was sounding around the airbase.

Scorpion leapt into Twilight and she strapped herself in as she studied the instruments before her. In the left seat, the Chief monitored the weapons systems and he listened out for Raptor in _Scourge_. The first vehicle to arrive was a Ministry of Defence Police Shogun which raced up the taxiway and skidded to a halt on the wet surface between Shelter 18 and Shelter 19. He appeared unsure of who to target – the dark, forbidding helicopter about to take-off from outside Shelter 19, or the smaller, well-armed helicopter which was air-taxing out of Shelter 18.

Neither movement was authorised and the two police officers in the vehicle erred on the side of caution as they were faced by the overwhelming show of firepower before them – Gatling guns _always_ attracted cautious attention. The Shogun backed off as _Twilight_ rose into the air and aimed its nose at the Shogun, encouraging the police car to move faster in reverse. As soon as _Scourge_ emerged from the aircraft shelter, both darkened helicopters turned towards the south and increased speed to 150-knots indicated airspeed (IAS).

"You okay, sport?" Raptor asked his son over the intercom.

"Yes – this is cool!"

"Just don't touch anything – we ain't out of the woods yet."

The prophetic announcement was met by a whooping sound in the cockpit.

 _"Warning: laser targeting detected!"_

The computer warning was chilling and Harrier went pale as he saw the warning indication on the right-hand TFT screen. The system indicated the threat coming from their seven o-clock. Raptor pulled the helicopter into a tight turn, not bothering to deploy flares or chaff; the Starstreak high-velocity missile was state-of-the-art and impossible to jam with flares or chaff as it was guided by a human operator's mark one eyeball. The missile had a range of less than four nautical miles and they were hauling arse out of the area at 150-knots – if only they could get out of range and out of the missile's line-of-sight. There was one problem: the missile travelled at over Mach 4 . . .

 _"Missile launch - evade! Missile launch – evade!"_

* * *

 ** _Northumberland  
Northern England_**

 ** _20:23_**

"Where are we going?"

It was about the twentieth time Kaitlin had asked since they had been scooped up from school with barely a word of explanation.

"England," Cassie replied.

"We're _in_ England," Naomi pointed out.

"Yorkshire," Cassie said.

"Cassandra!" Kaitlin growled angrily.

Naomi and Harper stared at their younger companion in shock.

"Oops!" Kaitlin exclaimed. "Sorry – I didn't mean that."

"It's okay, Kaitlin," Cassie replied as she concentrated on her driving. "We're on the way to a new Safehouse. It is off the grid and nobody knows where it is, but Eric, Cameron, and Crimson."

"Cool!" Harper commented. "What about my sister?"

"Keira knows the location of an airfield near to the Safehouse, but not where the Safehouse is. We should be meeting up with Keira and the Chief at the airfield where we'll stow the trucks," Cassie explained.

"You heard anything from them?" Harper persisted.

"No – we're on radio silence; they'll be fine," Cassie replied.

* * *

 ** _MoD Boscombe Down_**

 ** _19:58_**

 _Twilight_ turned tightly, diving directly for the laser designator which was targeting _Scourge_.

The Chief triggered off a spread of flares which momentarily dazzled the man aiming the missile which veered off course and then self-destructed before it could endanger any civilians on the ground. _Twilight_ came around and accelerated into the night, closely followed by _Scourge_ before any more missiles could be launched.

Scorpion was incensed by what was happening. _Vengeance_ was working for good, so why were they being targeted, literally? What had happened to turn them into the hunted? Answers to her many questions would have to wait until they landed, two hundred nautical miles away, along a deceptive flightpath and close to their fuel capacity, some of which had been burnt unnecessarily to avoid missile fire.

Scorpion was worried about her sister, just as much as the Chief was worried about his wife and son.

* * *

 ** _Ninety minutes later_**

 ** _Location: Classified_**

"Where are we landing?" the Chief asked.

Scorpion looked across at her companion.

"I know of it, but I have never been there – it's called _Thetis_ – it's on a corner of an old RAF airfield. We land there, secure the helicopters, and I understand that there should be vehicles which we can use to drive to Safehouse Victor Yankee, about an eleven mile drive to the southwest of the airfield."

"How long until we land?"

"About fifteen minutes."

" _Scourge_ , _Twilight_ – begin evasion and landing procedures."

 _"Scourge copies."_

The two helicopters flew through the night along their pre-planned deceptive flight plan. They had avoided cities and towns, sticking to open fields. The two attack helicopters were flying without lights or transponders, breaking many Civil Aviation Authority regulations. There usual cloak informing air traffic control that they were military helicopters had been burnt when Her Majesty's Government had turned on _Vengeance_.

Hiding the sound of two helicopters was all but impossible, however, the weather had closed in and both Scorpion and Raptor were relying on their infra-red systems to see through the raging torrents. As they closed, the helicopters tightened their formation as came into the hover over the airfield, a dozen yards from a set of buildings spread over a five-acre area.

 _"_ Twilight _,_ Scourge _, standby for air-taxi."_

Battle Guy's voice was very reassuring as a section of the largest building began to open – no lights were visible except for the very dim electro-luminescent lighting which framed the growing opening and the markings which illuminated on the ground.

 _"_ Twilight _,"_ Battle Guy advised. _"Follow the markings and angle to the right. Stop and cut engines on my command."_

Scorpion edged forwards slowly, dropping the undercarriage and allowing the wheels to come in contact with the concrete but maintaining a hover as she passed through the opening, keeping her centreline on the glowing yellow stripe ahead of her. The stripe angled to the left and right – Scorpion took the right path and then slowed as she saw a red marking across her path.

 _"Standby,_ Twilight _. . . STOP!"_ Battle Guy called out. "Cut engines and power down."

Scorpion pushed down on the collective and the helicopter sank down on to the concrete. Scorpion applied the wheel brakes before cutting both engines and slowly applying the rotor brake.

 _"_ Scourge _,"_ Battle Guy advised. _"Follow the markings and angle to the left. Stop and cut your engine on my command."_

Raptor edged forwards, dropping the helicopter down, but keeping the skids off the concrete as he followed the same markings as Scorpion had but taking a left turn.

 _"Standby,_ Scourge _. . . STOP!"_ Battle Guy called out. "Cut engine and power down."

Raptor halted the forward movement and he allowed the helicopter to settle onto its skids. The power to the engine wound down and the rotors spun to a stop as the brake was applied. Both Raptor and Scorpion were filled with relief as all the tension of the previous two hours eased perceptively. With a hum of hydraulics, the large doorway closed behind the two helicopters and the moment the doors closed and locked, the interior of the building was bathed in dazzling lights.

 _"Good luck, Vengeance! Battle Guy, out."_

"Wow!" Jeremy breathed as he pulled off his flight helmet.

"Tell me about it!" his father added in amazement as he surveyed what was outside his cockpit.

"You getting out?" Keira asked as she slapped a gloved hand on Trevor's cockpit hatch.

"What is this place?" Trevor asked as he climbed down from the helicopter.

"Another one of Hit Girl's super-secret facilities, by the looks of it," David Montgomery offered as he helped Jeremy out of the helicopter.

The inside of the building was stark but functional. Apart from the two attack helicopters which sat dripping water onto the red-painted concrete, there were eight vehicles parked side-by-side a few yards from _Scourge_. The vehicles varied from a pair of large hatchback Mondeos, through a pair of Audi S8 saloons, and a pair of Ford Transit vans, to a pair of Audi Q7 4x4s. Over to the right, not far from where _Twilight_ sat, four large Portakabins, stacked two high, sat on the concrete floor. The upper left of which had 'ACCOMODATION' marked on the door. Keira headed up the external steel steps and swiped her access card through a reader beside the door which clicked open obediently.

"I think we need to get ourselves cleaned up," Trevor commented as he headed back down the steps to get some fresh clothing for him and his son.

* * *

 ** _An hour and a half later_**

 ** _Location: Classified_**

"This looks like a shithole," Kaitlin commented as the convoy turned off the narrow road and into what looked to be a derelict . . . shithole.

"I hate to say it but the walking mouth is right," Naomi commented.

"Kind of looks like the location for one of Mindy's hideouts," Harper added.

"What are you doing?" Naomi asked her cousin as the little girl appeared to turn herself upside down and then rummage in her school bag.

Kaitlin reappeared thirty seconds later holding a small Keltec P-11 sub-compact pistol and a magazine which she inserted into the pistol's butt.

"You had that at school?" Harper growled.

"Officially, no," Kaitlin replied as Cassie peered behind the seats.

"You and I are going to talk, young lady," Cassie commented. "However, right now – that's not a bad idea."

Kaitlin grinned smugly as Naomi scowled.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Air Facility: Thetis_**

Scorpion and the Chief pulled on masks and they both ran down the steel stairs, MP7 personal defence weapons in their hands.

Above them, Trevor and his son, Jeremy, remained in the accommodation. Trevor held an H&K G36C ready to fire, covering the area around the helicopters. As Scorpion and the Chief took up positions close to the main door, Jeremy killed the lights from a panel in the accommodation. The CCTV cameras arrayed around the exterior of the building had observed movement outside and the lights of several vehicles pulling up outside.

Scorpion pressed the button, opening the doors to form a gap of about two feet in width. She stepped forwards, looking out into the driving rain. She could hear footsteps very close and then a pistol appeared out of the rain. Scorpion knocked the pistol up with her weapon and then kicked out sending the pistol's bearer crashing down outside. Scorpion moved slowly, her movements covered by the Chief. The pilot moved forwards and stared down at a small, slim shape on the concrete just as there was movement in her peripheral vision and she found what could only be a weapon being pushed against the side of her mask.

"Okay . . . that didn't go according to plan!" the slim shape growled as she lay on her back, staring up into the rain.

"Kaitlin?"

"Hi, Scorpion!"

..._...

Once everybody was inside the building and out of the rain, along with the vehicles, the doors were closed and the lighting reactivated.

"Having no comms sucks!" Natasha pointed out.

"We have fresh encryption chips available that use frequencies and algorithms unknown to HMG," Keira advised her friend as she hugged her little sister.

"I'm _very_ pleased that you all made it," David said as he hugged his wife and son.

"So – what do we do now?" Jasper asked.

"I would like to know what the bloody hell is going on!" Olivia demanded.

The thirteen-year-old girl was very unhappy. She had been hauled out of school, thrown in the car along with her sister and step-brother, and then she had endured three hours in a car along with a lengthy stop somewhere in the Scottish Borders. Nobody had so much as noticed that any of them were even there and they were forced to remain in the car.

"Who are these people?" eleven-year-old Christopher asked.

Jessica looked up at her father who nodded and the eleven-year-old girl took a deep breath.

"These people make up _Vengeance_ ," Jessica explained to her sister and step-brother.

"Keep dreaming!" Olivia exclaimed but then her grin vanished as she looked around her and her eyes took in the helicopters adorned with weapons and the serious looking people who were all looking at her. Then she looked at her sister, "How could you know?"

"I accidentally met them the other week. . ."

"You mean you were snooping!" Olivia growled – snooping was one of Jessica's not so welcome traits.

". . . Naomi, over there, she scared me half to death. Beside her is Kaitlin, Harper, and Keira. Over there is Craig and his dad . . ."

"I'm David, and this is my wife, Amy."

Jessica nodded her thanks to David as Natasha continued with the introductions.

"I am Natasha, and this is my brother, Cameron – we run _Vengeance_."

" _You_ are Crimson and Drift?" Olivia exclaimed.

"You going all fangirl, again, sis?" Jessica grinned. "My sister has a thing for Drift . . ."

"Shut _up_!" Olivia hissed as her face went pink.

"Beyond Keira, we have Cassie and her mother, Alexandra, plus Eric. Then we have our newest member, Trevor and his son, Jeremy."

"Hi," Jeremy offered as he looked around.

"Don't worry about all the little girls – they're strictly harmless," Craig commented as he walked over to Jeremy. "I'm Craig. Don't worry about hurting any of these girls; they can take it just as much as they can dish it out."

"Ignore the brainless, idiots, Olivia – their brains are in their dicks," Harper grinned as she walked over to stand with Olivia while Christopher headed over to join the boys.

"Let's get the equipment secured and we can head up to the Safehouse," Cameron directed.

* * *

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

They used the replacement 'clean' vehicles for the twenty-minute drive to the Safehouse.

The convoy took a right off the road, up a narrow track before they stopped at a large black gate which blocked the access further up the track to the left. Keira jumped out of the passenger seat of the leading Audi and she typed in an eight-digit number provided to her by Eric who sat in the Ford which was stopped behind the Audi. The code appeared to work as a green LED clicked on and the gate began to slide to the left, almost silently. Keira ran back into the dry safety of the Audi and her driver, Natasha drove through the gate followed by the other vehicles.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Harper commented from the back of the car.

"Is that because this is a place setup by Mindy and there could be random mines and other nasty surprises?" Craig chuckled.

"Exactly."

..._...

As the cars pulled up in front of the house, Keira was surprised to see that the building was lit up – almost every window had a light on and the curtains were closed – even the porch light was on.

"Somebody's living here?" Natasha pointed out unnecessarily. "We got the right place?"

"I think so?" Keira replied as she climbed out of the Audi.

Her confused expression was mirrored by that on Eric's face as he pulled a pistol out from the back of his jeans. His movement was mirrored by Keira and Natasha, along with Craig and Harper. In the car behind, Naomi and Kaitlin stood ready, pistols in their hands with Cassie standing beside them, an MP7 at the ready. The rain was still pelting down as Natasha and Keira moved towards the front door. As they approached, the door swung open and a voice called out to them.

"Bienvenue, mes amis!"

..._...

Harper bolted forwards, as did Naomi and Kaitlin. Yvette's eyes went very wide as she attempted to dodge the three pistol-waving girls who flew towards her. She failed miserably and was almost crushed as the three girls squeezed the air out of her lungs.

"Yvette!"

"Oui . . ." Yvette muttered hoarsely.

"Inside, please!" Adrien Agreste insisted and everybody quickly grabbed their kit and ran inside.

"Confused, yet?" Alya Césaire asked as she received some strange looks.

"Mindy suggested that we come over to activate the Safehouse and check all was clear for you. We are no affiliated with _Vengeance_ , so we are not being watched," Marinette Cheng explained once the door was closed and everybody was seated in the capacious living room.

"When did you get here?" Cassie asked Marinette.

"We got a call early, this afternoon, and we hopped the first flight from Charles de Gaulle and we landed at Leeds-Bradford Airport, around four," the French vigilante replied.

"Okay," Natasha called out as she stood up. "There are twenty-three of us, so we need to tolerate some close quarters. Most of us know each other but we have some newcomers to _Vengeance_. Please make these people feel welcome – especially as, for some, they have no fucking idea what is going on. As far as we know, we are safe here. I want everybody to get a good night's sleep, please."

Alya stepped forwards.

"I have allocated rooms for you all. The adults will be on the first floor while the children are at the top of the house on the second floor. I have put all the boys in one room and split up the girls between two of the rooms. Some of you will be sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor – sorry, but we are very tight on space," Alya explained.

"Breakfast will be at eight – please get some rest, girls!" Natasha commented as she stared at Kaitlin, Naomi, Harper, Yvette, and then back at Kaitlin.

"Why does everybody look at me twice?" Kaitlin demanded.

"Because you are twice as guilty as everybody else!" Cassie grinned to general laughter.

..._...

Before they turned in, Cassie and Keira went on patrol around the house. As they climbed up the stairs to the second floor, there was expected sound of giggling and laughing. Not surprisingly, Kaitlin was in the boy's bedroom winding up Craig and teasing the two new boys: Jeremy and Christopher.

"Night, Cassie . . . night, Keira!" Kaitlin yelled out as she bolted past and made for the bedroom next door which she was sharing with Yvette.

"Night, boys – you all okay?"

"Yes, thanks, Cassie."

Craig had the single bed while the other two boys were in sleeping bags on the floor.

"Welcome to _Vengeance_ , Jeremy and Christopher, you can trust Craig – listen to him," Cassie suggested with a smile as she closed the door.

The two young women moved onto the girls' bedroom at the east end of the house. The new girls, Olivia and Jessica had the two beds while Harper and Naomi snuggled up beside each other in sleeping bags on the floor.

"We have the new girls the beds," Harper pointed out.

"Very nice of you, Harper," Natasha replied. "You two, okay?"

"Yes, thank you," Olivia replied and Jessica nodded.

"I know this must be one hell of a shock for you both – worse for you, Olivia, as Jessica already knew a little bit about us," Cassie offered.

"It's been exciting," Olivia admitted.

"Night, girls."

The final destination was the room which was occupied by Kaitlin and Yvette.

"Stay in bed, please, Kaitlin," Kaitlin said as Cassie opened her mouth.

"Very funny!" Cassie laughed.

"Night, girls," Natasha grinned.

..._...

"All quiet on the home front?" Jasper asked as Cassie reached the kitchen.

"For now, and for as long as Kaitlin stays asleep," Cassie replied.

"What a fuck up!" Jasper commented sourly.

"Tell me about it."

"I suppose we spend tomorrow putting together some sort of a plan to turn this crap about – get you guys back where you belong, defending this country from what ails it."

"We need to figure out who and why before we can get to work," Cassie agreed.

"I'm scared for what might be awaiting us," Keira added. "Facing somebody we know is one thing, but facing an unknown foe and our own Government. . ."

"We are here to help in any way that we can," Marinette offered supportively.

"Anything that we can do," Alya confirmed with a nod from Adrien.

"Thank you," Natasha said. " _Vengeance_ thanks you."

" _Vengeance_ is not alone in this," Marinette said. "Bonne chance à nous tous!"

"Good luck to us all!" Cameron confirmed.

"We're going to need it. . ." Cassie admitted darkly.


	27. Dissent

**_Friday, September 23rd, 2016_**

 ** _Safehouse VY  
North Yorkshire, England_**

Jasper chuckled as a stream of tired youngsters began to drift into the kitchen.

Alexandra and Lynn had been cooking breakfast for the previous forty minutes. Apparently, Alya and Adrien had sought out a supermarket or two and they had bought large quantities of bacon, eggs, and sausages. The smell of the cooking food had teased the kids out of their beds. The girls had appeared first, led by Olivia and Harper. As the dining room could only seat eight, breakfast was sandwiches and a plate was handed to each person as they appeared in the kitchen.

"For fuck's sake!" Kaitlin growled as some bright yellow egg yolk worked its way down the front of her pyjama top.

Olivia and Harper laughed so hard that they both ended up with egg down their own tops. Jasper was pleased to see that his kids were all integrating without any problems. Jessica was sitting with Naomi and Yvette and they were each chatting animatedly while Christopher was sitting with the other two boys and ignoring the antics of the fairer sex. All the kids had hit it off directly – even the new boy, Jeremy, who had just learnt about _Vengeance_ the previous night. Jeremy's father, Trevor, was a likeable guy and Jasper had chatted with him over breakfast.

Keira and Trevor, along with David, had regaled everybody with an abbreviated version of their break in to and out of Boscombe Down, including the missile attack. The news of the missile attack had come as an unwelcome surprise to everybody.

"Hey – we could have been terrorists stealing a helicopter," Keira had pointed put to her appalled little sister.

"We are all in danger," Jasper advised everybody. "Until we find out who did this to us – we cannot undo it. Everybody needs to be at their best and ready for anything. Those of you who are new to _Vengeance_ and have no training – you will be trained. It will be hard work and I am sorry but it will be painful, at times, too. Craig, I want you to take Jeremy and Christopher and start with some morning exercises to loosen them both up before starting a full training regimen for them both. Harper – you will be in charge of getting Olivia and Jessica into fighting form - go with Craig and work with him."

"Kaitlin, Naomi, Yvette – we need to inventory our kit," Cassie directed. "You three are coming with me, David, Keira, and Trevor. We're heading back to Thetis."

"Nats and me are working with Adrien and Marinette to ensure that we are secure here," Cameron went on. "Lynn, myself, Alya, and Eric – we will be checking out the surrounding area and looking for threats. Good luck, everybody."

Craig and Harper gathered their trainees as everybody moved off to get dressed.

"Shorts and T-shirts – you won't need shoes or socks," Craig directed. "You have five minutes to be back down here."

"Move it!" Harper yelled.

* * *

 ** _Later that morning_**

Olivia had thought it fun to be training with _Vengeance_ , however, after an hour's hard exercises, the thirteen-year-old was exhausted.

She fell down onto her hands and knees, panting for breath, her body dripping with sweat. Beside her, her sister lay on the carpet, breathing heavily, sweat pouring off her. Christopher and Jeremy fared no better, although Jeremy appeared to be the fittest.

"Get up!" Craig ordered.

"I can't move," Jessica wailed.

"I'm too sore," Olivia complained.

"Me, the same," Christopher added.

Before Jeremy could come up with some pitiful excuse, Harper stepped forwards and she kicked each older child in the side.

"Get the fuck up, now!" The nine-year-old yelled. "Do any of you have the slightest bloody idea about what is going on right now?"

The blank expressions told Harper everything that she needed to know.

"For the love of everything that is holy!" she seethed. "At any moment, armed men could burst in here and take us all down. As well as trying to protect ourselves, we would have to protect you four dumb fucks. Why the fuck, should we put our lives on the line to protect you four, if none of you can be bothered to do anything to protect yourselves?"

"We never. . ." Olivia began.

"You never asked for any of this? Well, neither did I, neither did Craig. Did I ask some sick organisation to make me kill my own fucking parents? Yes, I put a bullet in each of their heads when I was eight-years-old – got to see the video of it, too. I would give anything to have a life where all this shit wasn't in my head. I would give anything to have a life where I could just be a normal girl."

"I'm sorry. . ." Olivia replied.

"You will be, by the time we're finished with you dumb fuckers!" Harper finished as she glared down at the horrified kids.

"Get off your fat arses," Craig ordered, his own anger building. "I swear to God, we will train you to stay alive even if it kills you. Now, get up, before Harper kicks you again."

All four kids jumped back to their feet very quickly, indeed. Craig stepped forwards and he glared down at the sobbing Jessica, then over at Olivia.

"You, Olivia, you were shot – a flesh wound. Your sister was not so lucky – she received a bullet in her left shoulder and was stuck in a cast for a month," Craig said.

Both girls were very surprised to hear Craig talk about their wounds – nobody outside the family knew about them.

"We know about the home invasion which cost you two your parents, and Christopher, his sister, Charlene," Harper said more calmly. "Do you want to be able to fight back? Do want to be able to defend yourselves against something like that happening again?"

All four kids nodded solemnly.

"None of us can get back those who have died. But we can do good in their name. That is what _Fusion_ and _Vengeance_ are all about," Harper continued. "Do not pity us for what we are – I am not sorry that I have skills which I can use to help other people. I want to use my skills to keep you four alive."

"Sorry, Harper," Olivia said quietly as she wiped away her tears.

"Yeah, sorry, Harper," Jeremy added as Christopher and Jessica nodded.

"Don't call me, Harper. Call me, Polaris. Craig is Stripe. You, Olivia, you are Ajax. Jessica is Overrun. Christopher is Forager. Jeremy is Harrier. When we train, you will use those names. Get used to using them. Our identities are our most precious commodity – protect it with your life. Never use real names in public while masked, understand me. If anybody hears you use our real names during training, you will pay the price."

"Right, now you little fucks can start back at your exercises. I want thirty squat thrusts – now!" Craig yelled.

..._...

Alexandra had listened to the entire exchange and she was impressed by Harper and Craig.

They had not kept anything back. Nothing had been chocolate-coated from the newbies. It was straight out there: _Vengeance_ was at war. Alexandra knew that things were bad – many saw her as just some woman who was married to a senior Royal Navy officer – and she knew that things were going to get a lot worse before they were going to get better. Alexandra decided that hitting the four newbies with everything until they dropped was a good way to get them acclimatised to their new world in the quickest way possible. Hence, she vanished down into the basement and into the armoury. A few minutes later, she returned with eight pistols in a stout plastic crate. She headed through upstairs to the training spaces on the top floor where she found the four newbies practicing some Taekwondo.

"Polaris – see what the little shits can do with these," Alexandra said as she dumped the crate onto the nearest table.

Polaris smiled as she looked into the box.

"Aye, aye, Amphitrite!"

"Does everybody have a codename?" Jessica asked.

"Yes – Jasper is Sleuth and Lynn is Doc," Alexander replied before she left the room.

"Each of you come up and select a weapon," Craig directed as Harper selected four books from a broad selection on the bookshelves along one wall.

"Use these books to identify the weapon which you have selected," Harper directed. "You have ten minutes."

..._...

Harper and Craig left the room and they found Alexandra down in the kitchen with Amy.

"Were we too hard on them?" Craig asked.

"No, honey, you weren't," Alexandra told the thirteen-year-old. "Well done, both of you. I will make sure that your sister, Harper, and your father, Craig, hear about your work today."

"We have no time for pussyfooting around," Amy acknowledged. "It is not their fault that they are caught up in this. But that does not mean that they can sit back and let everyone else protect them. I'm proud of you, Craig – and I'm certain Keira will be proud of you, too, Harper."

Craig cringed at his mother's praise but he grinned nonetheless as did Harper before they grabbed six bottles of chilled water from the fridge and headed back up the stairs.

..._...

Polaris and Stripe pushed open the door to find the four trainees feverishly flicking through pages of books and bickering between themselves.

"Speak!" Polaris ordered as if she were talking to a group of dogs.

Forager spoke first.

"I think mine is a Browning Hi-Power – nine-millimetre," Forager replied. "I saw it once in a movie."

"Well done, Forager," Harper replied with an encouraging nod and the boy smiled for the first time in over an hour. "Overrun?"

Jessica looked scared and she bit her lip.

"Glock 26 G – e – n - 4," Overrun offered.

"It's pronounced 'gen four' as in Generation Four," Polaris corrected.

"Any more?" Stripe asked none too gently.

"It was made in Austria. . ."

"Find out the calibre or you get punished," Stripe suggested before he turned to Harrier, leaving Overrun with tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Heckler and Koch P30SK," Harrier said slowly.

"Calibre?" Stripe prompted impatiently.

"Err . . . nine-millimetre."

"Good, Harrier – what about you, Ajax?"

Polaris looked at Ajax who appeared just as apprehensive as her sister There were tears running down her face.

"I . . . I don't know – I couldn't find it in the book. . ."

"You thick bitch!" Stripe growled. "Turn the fucking thing over!"

Olivia shook at the rebuke as she turned the pistol over.

"It's written on the fucking slide . . . dumb shit!" Stripe pointed out.

"Where did you get your information from?" Polaris demanded of Overrun.

"I read it off the gun."

"Well, why didn't you think to help your sister? You're all part of a bloody team, for fuck's sake – help each other out if they get stuck!" Polaris yelled causing more tears to erupt out of the older girl – then she turned on Ajax. "Take your finger away from the trigger."

Ajax did so.

"You _never_ touch the trigger until you are ready to shoot. I know these are not loaded but you follow the rules at ALL TIMES!" the last two words were shouted by Polaris. "You mess about with a weapon and somebody can get hurt if you accidentally squeeze the trigger."

With that proclamation, there were three sharp reports as Stripe pulled the trigger, three times, on a Glock 19, firing off three blank rounds. All four kids jumped, Overrun screamed. Ajax just shook violently.

"Okay – enough," Polaris said calmly. "Place the weapons back in the crate, please . . . good. Now, each of you will drink this bottle of water – drink it slowly but I want each of you to drink every last drop."

Overrun looked dubiously at the full litre of chilled water as she wiped away her tears but she twisted off the cap and began to drink as did everybody else, including Polaris and Stripe.

* * *

 ** _Thetis_**

The two helicopters, _Scourge_ and _Twilight_ , had been turned around to face the exit.

Both aircraft were fully fuelled and ready to launch at a moment's notice. Flight helmets were in the aircraft and flight suits were laid out in the accommodation along with personal weapons. For the moment, there were no plans to use the aircraft, however, they were maintained at an advanced state of readiness. Keira and Trevor were busy checking over _Scourge_ ensuring that the aircraft was ready for its next flight.

"This sucks!" Kaitlin complained as she ticked off another item on a seemingly endless checklist.

"It needs to be done, young lady," David pointed out as he dug through yet another crate of weapons. "Heckler & Koch G36C – twenty-four weapons."

"Twenty-four – got it!" Kaitlin replied.

"I have eighty-six, thirty-round magazines for the G36 – all empty," Naomi declared from beyond David in the back of one of the trucks.

"Eighty-six – got it! Bet Harper's having way more fun!"

"Tell me about it!" Naomi responded in agreement.

"Get on with it, Prowl!" David directed.

"Onto the massive crate of 5.56-millimetre ball ammunition!" Prowl growled.

* * *

 ** _Jasper and Eric_**

It had turned out to be a pleasant drive in the country.

There were not all that many approach roads into the area which made it easier for Eric to place wireless, solar-powered, detection devices with built-in, low-light cameras. All vehicles which passed within a four-mile radius would have their registration plates recorded and their movements tracked within the fifty-square-mile area.

Lynn and Alya were installing similar devices at the same radius around Thetis.

"How do you think the kids are getting on," Eric asked conversationally.

"I would expect them to be suffering by now," Jasper commented. "I told Harper and Craig to kick the shit out of them – Trevor agreed. The four of them are in for a rude surprise. I'm sorry that we got them involved in all this but it is safer if they can defend themselves, otherwise, they are a liability to the rest of us.

"Very true, Jasper, but I hope Harper and Craig know their limits – from what I've seen, _Predators_ sometimes get carried away," Eric pointed out.

"Alexandra is keeping a very close eye on them," Jasper admitted.

* * *

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

The six kids were sitting on the floor, finishing off their water.

"Look, guys," Harper offered. "We're not sorry for being hard on you – we have no time to be nice and take things slowly. But we are sorry for hurting our friends. During training, we'll be harsh – we need to be – but when we aren't training, like now, I hope that we can still be friends."

"I think I understand," Jessica replied. "I'm still your friend. I know you're being hard on us because you care. You scared me – that was the first time I'd heard a gunshot since I was shot."

"It was actually kind of cool," Christopher said with a grin. "The gunshots, I mean."

"Boys!" Olivia growled. "I'm sorry for messing up, Craig, Harper. I wasn't putting any effort in. I will in future, I promise. I felt humiliated but I think that was the point."

"I apologise for calling you a bitch," Craig said with a smile.

"Don't worry," Olivia replied. "I can handle it."

"She is a bitch!" Jessica whispered to Jeremy who laughed.

"Thanks, little sis!" Olivia said as she scowled at her sister but she laughed nonetheless.

..._...

Alexandra and Amy had listened to the exchange and they smiled.

Both had been a little worried about how the harsh treatment might land on the four new kids but so far, all appeared well and they were all still friends – at least for the moment.

"Right," Alexandra directed as she pushed open the door. "all six of you, go get yourselves cleaned up and we'll have lunch at twelve."

They all acknowledged the request and jumped up off the floor and headed for the bathroom.

"Girls, first!" Olivia directed.

"You do stink – so, good idea!" Christopher teased his step-sister.

Craig and Jeremy laughed.

"Idiots!" Harper growled as she pushed past the smirking boys into the bathroom, dragging Jessica with her.

As Olivia followed, she was surprised to see Harper stripping off her clothing before the door was even closed.

"What exactly is a _Predator_?" Olivia asked as Harper dived under the hot water and she began to wash herself. "You obviously have no modesty."

Harper laughed as she replied.

"They stripped off your identity – they removed your clothing, they shaved off your hair. The degradations and humiliations were constant. They trained us to kill, to maim, to torture, to win – no matter what the odds. Besides, I'm only nine; puberty is a ways off."

"Sounds like you had things bad," Jessica commented as she herself stripped off her clothing while her sister scowled.

"Jess – what are you doing?" Olivia demanded.

"Harper has a point – I have nothing to hide; like her, I have no boobs and no hair. What have I to be bothered about?"

"Well, I'll wait until you two have finished before I expose myself in such an outrageous fashion," Olivia advised the younger girls in an attempt at appearing older and more mature.

"She hasn't much to see – her boobs are barely more than bumps with knobs on and the hair between her legs is a little sparse."

Olivia's mouth dropped open as Harper and Jessica giggled before they both burst out laughing. The thirteen-year-old decided that she was _not_ going to give the last word to her eleven-year-old sister. She quickly pulled off her T-shirt and sports bra and pushed down her shorts and knickers in one.

"You two happy, now?" Olivia growled as she stood naked in the bathroom while Harper and Jessica swapped places.

"Welcome to _Vengeance_ , Olivia!" Harper grinned as she took in the blushing naked teenager.

..._...

The six kids eagerly joined Cameron, Natasha, Adrien, Marinette, Alexandra and Amy for bacon sandwiches and blackcurrant juice.

"So, Olivia – how did your morning go?" Natasha asked.

"Not well," Olivia replied, honestly. "It was exhausting and humiliating but I understand why Harper and Craig were hard on us."

"Do we get the afternoon off?" Jessica asked hopefully.

"No, honey," Cameron replied. "Now you've exercised, you can start your physical training after lunch."

Jeremy groaned loudly and his head hit the table. Christopher and his step-sisters looked horrified.

"You're kidding, right?" Jeremy asked.

"No, Jeremy – the only rest you're going to get is when you go to bed, tonight," Cameron explained.

"I can take it!" Olivia proclaimed.

Olivia missed the evil grin on Harper's face but Jessica did not and she grimaced.

* * *

 ** _Forty-eight minutes later_**

Olivia was in tears again.

She wasn't the only one – Jessica and Jeremy were in the same state as Harper and Craig put all four kids down onto the mat in quick succession. The kids were well outside their comfort zones and they were not being given the chance to rest or even a chance to learn what they were doing wrong.

"Stop it!" Olivia screamed at Harper. "Leave me _alone_!"

The teenager was screaming with tears streaming down her face. Harper was having none of it as she slapped the girl around the face with one hand and then kicked her back down onto the mat. Jessica tried to attack Harper and protect her sister but she screamed as a fist struck her in the side and she went down to one knee. Jeremy struck at Craig who was easily holding off both boys and grinning at their misfortune.

Harper was cutting it fine as she laid into the two girls again and again until they were both barely able to cry, let alone move. Then Harper and Craig stood back for a moment before helping each of the exhausted kids back to their feet. Olivia was very upset and she was breathing heavily as she slapped Harper across the face very hard. Harper closed her eyes for a few moments as she absorbed the blow which brought tears to her eyes and she knew that she would have a whopping great bruise on her left cheek come the morning.

"Did that make you feel better?" Harper asked without humour.

"No."

"Why are you _doing_ this?" Christopher asked.

"Do we really have to go through _that_ again?" Craig sneered rhetorically.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

Jasper was not surprised when he returned to the house to find four very unhappy youngsters.

Olivia actually ran forwards in a fit of tears and the girl wrapped her arms around his waist. Lynn just shrugged as she gave her husband a kiss. They exchanged looks but said nothing.

"You stink, Olivia – go get a shower before dinner, please," Jasper said.

Olivia scowled as she released her hold on Jasper and she stomped out of the room and up the stairs. She was followed by an angry Jessica. Naomi and Kaitlin exchanged glances with their counterparts, Harper and Craig.

"Somebody got you good," Kaitlin commented as she studied Harper's cheek.

"It was a bad day for Olivia," Harper commented dryly.

"They have to learn," Naomi stated with little sympathy.

"Go easy on them, tonight, please," Lynn directed.

"We will," Kaitlin replied. "We're not total bitches!"

"Yeah, right!" Craig muttered as he hurried off after Christopher. "Come on, Jeremy."

Jeremy released the hold he had around his father's waist and he followed Craig up the stairs.

..._...

That evening, dinner was a difficult affair as the newbies scowled at their tormentors and at the _Predators_ in general.

"Enough of the animosity!" Natasha said. "I know your four had a bad day, but so did the rest. You think Harper and Craig _enjoyed_ hurting you?"

Olivia scowled at Harper.

"Olivia, I know I was harsh on you but my experiences have told me that it will keep you alive. I hope to God that you don't find yourself in a position where your life is put at risk but we have no idea how badly things are going to go," Harper said.

"It's not fair – none of us asked for any of this!" Olivia exclaimed as she stood up. "We never asked for our parents to be murdered. We never asked to be beaten up by weird, fucked up, little girls."

"Olivia!" Lynn growled.

"No – I've had enough of you psychos!" Olivia turned and she stormed off up the stairs.

Harper made to go after the girl but Lynn stopped her.

"Let her go, Harper."

..._...

Harper went for a walk after dinner. She felt more than a little guilty for how she had treated the newbies. She had tried to ease her guilt with the argument that she was keeping them alive but that was not working – not anymore. When she had been a full-on _Predator_ , her mindset would have buried the emotion, but not now that she was trying to live a normal life. She had learnt to feel guilt. She had learnt to feel bad about hurting people.

Life sucked!

"Harper?"

Harper spun around to find Olivia a few feet away, walking towards her.

"Hi, Olivia."

"Look, Harper – I'm sorry about what I said and I'm sorry for slapping you."

Harper subconsciously rubbed her left cheek which was still sore.

"You got a good right hook, there, Olivia!" Harper quipped and the older girl grinned.

"I want to learn. I promise I won't behave like a spoilt little brat."

"I know this is hard, Olivia, but if a brat like me can survive it, then I'm certain you can – Jessica too. I won't go easy on any of you – that wouldn't be right – so I apologise in advance for the suffering that we are going to cause you."

"Bring it on, Harper – do your worst!" Olivia said as she gave the girl a hug.

"Oh, I will, I will."


	28. Into Hell

**_The following morning  
Saturday, September 24th, 2016_**

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

Nobody was in a good mood that morning.

The facts of life had just been dictated by Jasper and Cameron. All the adults handed over their debit and credit cards. Any purchases could be tracked. Cash and replacement credit cards were available for use in the interim until the time that they were no longer being actively hunted. All personal mobile phones had been turned off, the sim chips removed, back on the day of escape. Everybody received a fresh _Fusion_ mobile phone with a new sim chip and new encryption routines. The newbies were shown how to use the new devices and instructed never to go anywhere without them – even taking them with them into the shower and the toilet.

Everybody, except for the newbies, was armed with a pistol – even Alexandra. The newbies were to begin their weapons' training that day up at _Thetis_. All four newbies had awoken with a renewed spirit and the harrowing moments of the previous day were forgotten – apart from the vicious bruise on Harper's left cheek which had Olivia cringing.

"I think it improves her looks," Kaitlin quipped.

"Maybe we should slap you, then, improve your looks too, shit-face!" Harper responded.

"Bring it on, Harpy!"

"Okay!" Cassie said loudly as she moved in between the two sniping youngsters.

Everybody would have to change their ways and improve their counter-surveillance skills.

"Well, Natasha is going to have to control her speed," Naomi pointed out.

"Oh, very funny, munchkin!" Natasha growled as everybody laughed.

"Yes, attracting the attention of the authorities is contrary to our intended task of self-preservation," Jasper agreed. "Newbies, after you've finished breakfast, you will all get changed then go with Harper and Craig."

There were four unhappy, but resigned faces. One of them decided to emphasise her unhappiness, muttering under her breath.

"Jessica!" Lynn commented. "Any more mouthing words as foul as that, young lady, and you will know about it."

"Sorry."

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Air Station – Thetis_**

"This place is awesome!" Olivia announced as she took in the facility, having not had a proper chance the other evening.

"Don't touch my helicopters!" David Montgomery ordered as he set to work on his charges.

"Your helicopters?" Jeremy challenged.

"Without me, those pilots go nowhere – not even the mighty _Scorpion_ can fly a bent bird."

"Point taken," Jeremy conceded.

"We pilots may drive the helicopter but we have no idea what goes on outside the cockpit," Keira said with a wink at her sister.

"We just press buttons and magic happens," Trevor acknowledged while providing his son with a sly grin.

"Seriously, those helicopters don't fly without the expertise of the maintainer. If Chief says the bird is bent, we don't fly," Keira explained. "Those helicopters are his until he says they are safe to fly and only then does he hand them over to us to fly."

"Thanks for the clarification," Jeremy replied. "I think it's cool – bit like Airwolf."

"Airwolf?" Jessica asked.

"It's a boy thing."

..._...

Polaris and Stripe took their trainees over to the far side of the facility where there was a cordoned off space which was fully soundproofed and about thirty feet in length. The ceiling was low – a little over two-metres in height but that was not an issue to any of the six kids occupying the space.

"I want you each to know that if any of you fuck about during this session, you _will_ get hurt . . . do . . . you . . . understand?" Polaris growled.

"Yes, Polaris!" came four voices, together.

"Before you, at the firing point, there are four pistols – they are all identical. It is the SIG Sauer P320 compact pistol, chambered in nine-millimetre Luger. It has a standard fifteen-round magazine and you should each find it comfortable to hold," Stripe explained. "Each of you, please pick up a weapon each – keep it aimed at the floor and DO NOT touch the trigger."

The four trainees stepped forwards and each tentatively picked up a pistol, keeping the muzzle aimed at the floor as instructed and they each kept their fingers well away from the trigger. Stripe began the detailed explanations.

"As you will notice, there is no magazine inserted. Still, we check the weapon for safety before we do anything else with it. THINK SAFETY! Now, none of you know her, but there was a _Predator_ called Fury, yes? Well, she had a pistol blow up in her hand – poor maintenance on her part. She almost lost her right hand – for her punishment she suffered a lot of pain; ask her about it sometime, should you meet her."

There was some cringing from the girls as they looked down at their own right hands and the pistols they held.

"First, check the magazine has been removed – in this case, we can obviously see that the butts are empty . . ."

Stripe paused as Overrun giggled but his sharp glare stopped her dead and she bit her lip.

". . . we move on to the breech. Pull back the slide and visually check that the breech is empty. You can also use your finger to confirm that the breech is empty. Release the slide gently back into place. Even though you know that the pistol is empty – KEEP YOUR DAMN FINGER AWAY FROM THE TRIGGER!"

"Now, let's introduce you to some of my little friends – these are nine-millimetre rounds," Polaris began.

..._...

Keira poked her head into the range, about forty minutes later, to find instruction well underway.

The newbies were learning how to load a magazine with live rounds. There was intense concentration on the faces of all four kids as they worked on their task. Harper and Craig were watching every movement and pointing out anything wrong. Where they could, the experienced _Predators_ provided hard-learnt tips to the trainees, who were coping much better than the day before. Keira was very proud of her little sister and amazed by how well she was able to pass on her knowledge of death and destruction. There were also the beginnings of teamwork amongst them which was good to see.

Keira left them to their instruction while she went back to her tasks. Eric was busy preparing a short-wheel-base Ford Transit as a command van. The vehicle had been hastily fitted with some racking and the electronic equipment was all available from the capacious stores in the facility. Keira began to unpack eight Dell Alienware laptops with varying screen sizes. These were installed into the racks to provide Eric with secure communications and status updates. Eric already had several other laptops collating information and monitoring their security perimeter.

There was a palpable sense of urgency in the facility as everybody knuckled down to do their job. Nobody wanted to remain in hiding any longer than was needed.

..._...

An hour later, they broke for lunch and for a change, there were big smiles on the trainees faces.

"They did good, this morning," Harper confessed.

"After lunch, we actually fire the weapons," Craig said and there were four enormous grins from the newbies.

"Looking forward to that, are you?" Keira asked.

The four nodded eagerly as they dug into their soup and sandwiches. It had been a relatively easy morning and they were all thankful that they were not getting beaten up by their mentors as on the previous day. It had occurred to each of them that they were not being trained to use a pistol for target practice – they were being trained to use the pistols to defend themselves. Nobody had yet talked about killing anybody but they knew that they might just have to put a bullet into another human being to save a life; possibly their own.

It was something which had dawned on each one of them when in bed the previous night and it was preying on their young minds.

..._...

That afternoon, as promised, the trainees were allowed to fire their weapons, one at a time, under the watchful eyes of Stripe and Polaris.

Admittedly, they were new to the task and it had been possible to reuse the same paper target for all four of them as not a single bullet (out of twenty) had struck the target.

"The sights are off!" Ajax complained.

"Is that so. . ." Polaris commented as she appropriated Ajax's weapon before inserting a full fifteen-round magazine and pulling back the slide.

Polaris took up her stance and she fired off three rapid groups of five rounds.

"Go get the target, dipshit!" Polaris ordered Ajax.

The older girl ran down the range and she retrieved the paper target. She was stunned. The paper was torn in three places – you could not tell that fifteen rounds had passed through the target, yet there were three large holes. The humbled girl passed the target to Polaris without comment and with a very meek expression on her face.

"Now you know that I can shoot – it is time for some fun!"

"Yay!" Overrun exclaimed.

"Fun for Craig and me. . ."

"What you going to do?" Forager asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Harrier added warily.

"Well, seeing as Ajax has the biggest gob – let's use her to demonstrate. This is something that a friend of mine taught me – her name is Hit Girl."

"No . . ." Ajax said, her voice rising as she backed away. "You're not doing anything to me that Hit Girl taught you!"

"Boys!" Polaris grinned.

Forager and Harrier took Ajax by the arms and held her steady while Stripe placed a ballistic vest over her head and proceeded to Velcro it tightly around her stomach. The thirteen-year-old girl was feeling very frightened as she was led down the length of the range and then turned to face Polaris who was grinning. Behind Ajax, Stripe placed a mattress on the ground.

"What's that for?" Ajax demanded.

"Now don't move, Ajax," Stripe cautioned as he led the boys back down the range to stand behind Polaris.

"Now, nine-millimetre bullets hurt like hell, but it's more of a sting compared to .40-calibre rounds. A .45-calibre round would probably break a rib or two on Ajax, so I'm sticking with the .40-calilbre."

"She'll like that," Overrun grinned.

"You're a fucking bitch; you know that, don't you?" Ajax yelled down the range.

"I am what I am!" Polaris said as she swept a .40-calibre Glock 22 from beneath the counter top and she fired off two rounds into Ajax's ballistic vest.

There was a loud scream as the girl flew backwards onto the strategically placed mattress. Polaris cleared her weapon before running down the range and dropping to her knees beside Ajax.

"You okay, Ajax?" Polaris asked with concern evident in her tone.

"I hate you so much and I want to really hurt you . . ."

Polaris laughed and helped Ajax back to her feet.

"You looked _so_ stupid, sis!" Overrun called out as her sister came towards her, rubbing her chest.

"Let's see what you look like, then," Stripe commented as she placed an identical ballistic vest over Overrun's head.

"No way!" the eleven-year-old squealed but she gave up struggling and quickly accepted her impending doom.

Three minutes later, the young girl's scream echoed out around the range as she was shoved back by the force of the bullets striking her ballistic vest and she hit the very same mattress where her sister had previously landed. The two boys quickly followed, both excited about being shot for some strange reason! Once the 'fun' was over, Polaris checked them all out to ensure that they had nothing more than a vicious bruise.

"You each have an idea of what it feels like to be shot. Trust your body armour. Sometimes it is better to take a bullet in the chest than risk losing your quarry. So, if some twat decides to shoot you, you won't be scared about the bullet passing straight through."

"Not so sure about that. . ." Overrun commented.

* * *

 ** _Early evening_**

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

"You enjoy yourselves?" Lynn asked as the kids returned that evening.

"Considering I was shot, twice, I feel pretty good," Jessica commented.

"It was really cool, Mum, Harper shot me twice!" Christopher confirmed.

"Did it hurt?" Lynn asked.

"I have a large bruise right between my breasts and, yes, it hurts," Olivia advised her step-mother.

"It's the best thing I've done since I arrived here," Jeremy advised everybody and his dad laughed.

"Well done, all of you," Natasha said to the beaming kids. "Craig and Harper have told me how well you each worked, today."

"As a treat, we have chocolate cake for pudding and you can all have an easy morning, tomorrow," Cameron advised and there was cheering from the youngsters.

When everybody went to bed that night, they were more sore from overeating than from the exertions of the day.

The newbies, especially, were very proud of what they had accomplished.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Sunday, September 25th_**

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

Olivia, Jessica, and Harper were sitting on the floor in the living room, talking.

The day had gone well and they were all enjoying some much-needed free time. The boys were chatting with Craig in another room while the adults kept an eye on the youngsters. The youngsters had a need to be pushed – just not too far. Nobody was enjoying their enforced exile but they were all determined to make the most of it. For the moment, they were safe and that was what mattered. The experienced among them were very concerned about what lay ahead and how long they might have to put their lives on hold.

As well as keeping themselves safe and training the newbies in basic defence, there was also the task of figuring out what the hell had happened! Why was HMG disavowing them? Who was behind it? For the moment, nobody was giving away any answers, despite many questions begin asked. Commander Lawrence was risking his very existence by probing within MI5 – his superior had advised him to be very careful or he might find himself arrested. Commander Lawrence was not worried about his own freedom but he was worried about those he was supposed to be protecting. As such, he was treading very carefully so that he could remain in a position where he could glean pertinent information for _Vengeance_ and _Fusion_.

 _Synthesis_ had been tasked with digging for information through back channels. There was a general consensus among those who supported _Vengeance_ that somebody was manipulating Her Majesty's Government into disavowing _Vengeance_. Commander Lawrence had a team of men and women who were all loyal to him and therefore to _Vengeance_. They were all covertly muddying the waters around _Vengeance_ and covering any trails which may lead the 'forces of evil' to their door.

One such person was Debbie Grey who had provided crucial assistance to _Fusion_ during their soirée into Europe, earlier in the year.

..._...

Debbie Grey was a tall woman of about five-feet-five-inches in height with auburn hair, and she was generally dressed smartly in a grey trouser suit. However, for her current mission, she was dressed down in blue jeans with a cream blouse and a black faux-leather jacket. Her outfit was finished off with a pair of ankle-length black low-heeled boots. Under the jacket, in the small of her back, she carried a Glock 26 pistol.

The thirty-two-year-old woman drove her unmarked, 'company' Vauxhall Vectra hatchback into the city of York, early that morning. After stopping off for a breakfast wrap and a latte at a convenient McDonald's, she ventured off north of the large city towards the market town of Malton. She was 'searching' for _Vengeance_ – at least officially – and unofficially too. A meet had been arranged between herself and a member of _Vengeance_. Her intended task was to pass over some crucial intelligence as well as secure codes and methods of communication. The plan was that if she, and _her_ team, were operating around York, then another team who were _not_ pro- _Vengeance_ might be allocated there.

After the drive, north, she parked her car in the centre of Malton before heading into the main shopping area.

..._...

 _"Echo One – Echo Base - you have company at your eleven o'clock."_

Debbie never turned her head but she adjusted her eyes to catch sight of her target. She wore dark sunglasses allowing her eyes to dart around and study her surroundings without attracting attention. The target was a young woman, maybe early twenties who was walking through the town with two young girls in tow. Both girls were laughing and giggling as they talked animatedly.

 _"Echo One – Echo Three – we have the opposing team joining from your two o'clock."_

That was bad news. Over to her right, Debbie saw three men – it was the haircuts which gave them away. Ex-armed forces – they were mercenaries to be sure. They were also trouble. It was the first time that anybody had seen the adversaries who were believed behind the current situation involving HMG and _Vengeance_. Debbie did nothing to attract attention to herself nor her target, instead she braced up, ready for what was about to happen – knowing that it would hurt but it had been deemed the only way.

..._...

 _"Nemesis, target is dead ahead, black leather jacket and sunglasses . . . hold!"_

Cassie slowed as she closed her target. Naomi and Kaitlin heard the same message and braced up but they continued their animated chatting just as if they were two little girls enjoying a day out.

 _"New players – ten o'clock,"_ Q advised.

Q was several miles away, monitoring the situation through a hack of the local CCTV system. As Cassie closed with their target, she turned to the girls.

"Now, what do you two want to eat?" she asked as if the two girls were her own daughters (not too far off the mark, neither) "At least if you're eating, you're not talking!"

"I want a doughnut," Naomi replied.

"I want a yum-yum – Greggs is just over there," Kaitlin countered.

"Okay – you two are real pains!" Cassie said. "Go!"

The two girls ran forwards, smashing into the unfortunate Debbie, knocking her backwards and down to the ground. Naomi and Kaitlin fell to the ground too but quickly rolling back to their feet. Cassie rushed over to Debbie apologising for the 'accident' before kneeling down beside the fallen woman. Swiftly, Cassie ran her hands around Debbie's body and she seized the pistol, palming it and slipping it into her pocket before bolting _away_ from the three men who were closing in on her and the two girls.

The men began to run after the three of them as they bolted down an alleyway between two shops.

..._...

 _"Echo One – Command – report!"_

Debbie jumped back to her feet, intercepting the three men.

"Are you Police?" she asked. "I think I've just been mugged."

"Fuck off, you stupid bitch!" the front man growled as she shoved Debbie out of the way.

Debbie smiled, she had slowed them down by a few seconds – every little helped.

"Command – Echo One – target attacked me and took my weapon. Target plus two minors heading west.

 _"Echo One – Command copies. We're checking CCTV now."_

Only they weren't!

..._...

Jasper knocked on the door of the 'plumbers' van and the door slid open. Jasper raised his suppressed pistol and he grinned at the two men seated inside the van.

"Which one," he asked.

"That one," one of the technicians said as he pointed at a disk array located below the worktop.

Jasper put a bullet into the indicated array, plus another into an identical one to the left.

"Thank you for your cooperation!" Jasper said as he stowed his pistol and strode off.

A few minutes later, Debbie turned up at the van.

"Our recordings, the CCTV?"

"All gone, boss."

Debbie smiled as she returned to her car.

* * *

 ** _Jasper_**

Four hundred yards away, Cassie and the girls ran towards the rendezvous point where, they hoped, Jasper would be waiting to get them out of there.

However, there was a slight problem. Jasper had returned to his Audi to find that the vehicle had watchers – a BMW X5 sat a dozen yards away, two men visible in the front seats and they were watching the Audi S8. They had not seen Jasper's approach and he continued on his way, striding past the Audi and making for the pedestrian entrance to the multi-storey car park. The Audi was parked on the third level of the car park – the place had been heaving on their arrival.

"Nemesis – transport is unavailable, standby."

 _"Well . . . fucking . . . make it available!"_ Cassie breathed as she ran.

Jasper began working on a plan.

* * *

 ** _The Girls_**

Kaitlin ducked and rolled as the brickwork beside her exploded.

The eight-year-old brought up her SIG Sauer P239 Compact and she returned fire, the bullet barely making any noise as the exhaust gases were absorbed by the suppressor. Her target dove to one side, narrowly avoiding the incoming nine-millimetre round. Naomi had drawn her own weapon – an identical SIG to her cousin's pistol and she was covering Kaitlin. Cassie, in turn, had drawn her own SIG Sauer P226 pistol with attached suppressor.

It was to be a, somewhat bizarre, suppressed gunfight!

* * *

 ** _Jasper_**

The men appeared transfixed on the Audi – much to their detriment, or so Jasper thought.

As Jasper approached the X5 from the side, he found himself accosted by a man of comparable stature.

"You lost, mate?"

"Just lookin' for me motor."

"Well you're just findin' trouble, 'ere, mate."

Jasper caught sight of the pistol under the man's left armpit. Without warning, Jasper rammed his left hand, heel exposed, into the man's nose, crushing it and then punching him in the throat. The man gurgled as he sank to the floor, blood spreading across the pale concrete.

"Enjoy your rest, _mate!_ " Jasper muttered as he moved closer to the X5, pulling a collapsible billy club from his back pocket.

With a flick of his wrist, the club extended. The two men in the X5 never saw his approach, relying on their own watcher who was now enduring his fatal injuries a few feet away from them. With a swish, the club smashed the driver's side window, showering the driver with shards of safety glass. The passenger recovered quickly from the exploding window and he raised a pistol in Jasper's direction. Jasper was ready – he released the arming handle of a red smoke grenade and threw it into the foot well at the driver's feet. Within a second, copious amounts of thick, choking smoke erupted out of the canister. The passenger fell out of the vehicle in his haste to escape. By the time he regained his feet and brought his pistol up, he caught a brief glimpse of an Audi S8 vanishing down a ramp.

The man cursed and coughed up more smoke.

* * *

 ** _The Girls_**

 _"Sleuth is inbound!"_ Q advised the team.

"Tell the cunt to get a bloody move on!" Cassie growled in response.

Cassie and the girls were using parked cars for cover as they awaited the arrival of Jasper. Their ammunition was very limited so they took careful shots as, it seemed, were the opposition who had obviously not expected a drawn-out gunfight. The men were good but Cassie was pleased to see that her _Predator_ daughters were able to hold their own. Two of the three men had bullet wounds but they were not giving in – at least not when faced with two little girls and a young woman.

It was with great relief that they heard the sound of an engine coming up behind them.

* * *

 ** _Jasper_**

The gunfight was running hot and it was time to go.

Jasper spun the car around and reversed towards the girls, keeping his engine away from the gunfire.

"Nemesis – get your team ready; we're leaving," Jasper called over the comms.

Cassie studied the three attackers, figuring a breakout plan. They could not just dash to the car – that, would be suicide. But Jasper had a plan. He drove the armoured Audi directly at the gunmen, bullets pounding into the boot and rear window. He spun the vehicle around putting it broadside between the gunmen and the girls. Kaitlin broke cover first, under the covering fire of Cassie and Naomi. A bullet took the young girl off her feet and she fell backwards onto the tarmac. Naomi emptied her magazine at the gunmen, dropping one with a bullet in the head while Cassie swept up the fallen Kaitlin and threw her into the back of the Audi.

Naomi dived after her cousin as Cassie fired off the last round in her pistol before turning to pull open the passenger door of the Audi. Cassie's eyes went wide as she saw the muzzle aimed in her direction and then a bright flash.

The bullet sped unerringly towards its target.


	29. Arrested

**_Sunday, September 25th, 2016_**

 ** _Malton, Yorkshire_**

Cassie slammed the door and Jasper floored the accelerator.

"Talk about a close shave!" Kaitlin said as she winced.

"You in pain?" Naomi asked, showing uncharacteristic concern for her younger cousin.

"Whatya think, wise arse? I just got fucking shot! Tell her, Cassie."

Cassie did not respond as her head lolled forwards and she lay against the doorframe. Blood was visible running down the side of her neck.

"Cassie!"

* * *

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

The Safehouse was peaceful as everybody enjoyed the downtime.

Suddenly, the happiness of the afternoon was immolated by three simple words shouted by Lynn as all hell broke loose.

"Cassie's been shot!"

There followed furious activity as the library was rapidly converted into its secondary role as a medical facility. The furniture was shoved over to one side and plastic sheeting was spread across the floor. A long table with a wooden top was setup and covered with a clean white sheet while medical supplies were produced and arranged on two more wooden topped tables, each of which had a clean white sheet spread over them.

"ETA four minutes!" Cameron announced.

It had been a simple meet to get a grasp on what was happening but somehow it had gone very wrong.

..._...

The two girls were almost hysterical by the time the Audi slid to a halt outside the Safehouse. As for Cassie, she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

Jasper and Lynn helped Cassie out of the car and all but carried her into the Safehouse. Marinette and Alya grabbed the two girls and took them inside. Olivia was shocked by the sight of a barely conscious Cassie being carried by Jasper and Lynn into the library. She was also shocked by Naomi and Kaitlin. She knew what they were and Jessica and witnessed them in action at close hand. Both were scary to look at, despite their tears, and Olivia knew that something _really_ bad had occurred.

Cassie was laid on the central table and Lynn examined the wound on her neck. After some prodding and poking, Lynn cleaned the wound before dressing it and wrapping a bandage around Cassie's neck to hold the dressing in place. The bullet had missed her carotid artery by about an inch but the strike had been enough to send her body into shock. After checking over the rest of Cassie's body to ensure there were no other wounds, Lynn pronounced her safe before she turned to Kaitlin.

"Jasper says you were struck by a bullet, Kaitlin," Lynn said. "Were you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Kaitlin replied.

"Yvette, Harper – get Kaitlin out of that combat suit so I can check her over."

"Leave me alone!" Kaitlin growled as she was grabbed by her friends.

"We do this the easy way . . . or the hard way," Harper declared and Kaitlin gave in, allowing her friends to help her strip off her clothing and then the combat suit underneath.

"What about you, Naomi?"

"Nothing hit me, but I slotted one of the bastards," Naomi stated for the record.

"Go get out of your combat suit and have a bath – it'll relax you. Don't worry about Cassie or Kaitlin – they're going to be fine."

"Thank you," Naomi said as Keira took her off upstairs.

..._...

After the barely conscious Cassie was removed from the table and taken upstairs to bed by Jasper and Amy, it was Kaitlin's turn.

Lynn helped the eight-year-old onto the table and got to work checking out the injury. Kaitlin's right side was a mass of purple and blue where the heavy bullet had struck her combat suit. The suit had prevented the bullet's penetration but the impact force had been transferred through the suit and into her skin. After a few minutes of very painful prodding and poking during which Kaitlin screamed out in pain on several occasions, Lynn was pleased to find no broken ribs.

"You will be very sore for several days but it will ease," Lynn explained to the young girl as she sat up, grimacing in pain.

"I've been shot in armour before – but _that_ was painful!" Kaitlin exclaimed.

"I think they were using .40-calibre rounds which would explain why you hurt so much," Jasper said as he came back into the room.

Kaitlin was in a lot of pain, so was given a painkiller before she was laid alongside the sleeping Cassie and she quickly fell into a troubled sleep of her own.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Monday, September 26th_**

It was still early morning when Kaitlin awoke.

She felt very sore up her right side where the bullet had struck her body. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was but then she saw a pair of dark brown eyes looking at her.

"You okay, sweetie," Cassie asked weakly as she ran her fingers through her youngest daughter's hair.

"I think so."

Kaitlin moved closer to Cassie and she snuggled into her mum.

"My side hurts," Kaitlin complained as tears began to spill down her face.

"Just lie still, sweetie."

"I love you, Mummy."

"I Love you, too, sweetie."

Cassie grinned to herself. It was the first time that either of the girls had called her 'Mummy'.

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Wednesday, September 28th_**

Kaitlin was getting annoyed with her status.

"You're still bruised – live with it," Harper suggested.

"Stop treating me like an invalid – especially you," Kaitlin growled at Naomi. "It's unnatural for you to be caring, so stop it!"

"Just looking after my cousin slash sister," Naomi replied feigning a hurt expression.

"Girls – stop bickering!"

"Yes, Mum," the two girls said together before bursting into giggles.

Cassie was enjoying being a 'mum' but her two daughters could be really strange at times.

"Girls!" Craig growled as he finished off his mug of tea and headed back to training the newbies.

"I'm off ops, too, honey – so don't feel bad," Cassie explained to her daughter as Naomi vanished with Harper.

"At least I got one of the bastards," Kaitlin growled coldly.

"And we got the data we needed – good idea hiding an SD card in a pistol magazine," Jasper pointed out.

"This is only going to get worse, right?" Kaitlin said.

"Yes, honey," Cassie replied darkly as she hugged her daughter. "It will get a lot worse before it, hopefully, gets better."

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Friday, September 30th_**

 ** _Mid-morning_**

 ** _Monks Cross, York_**

"Is this meet going to be safe, Jasper?"

"Yes, Natasha, it will be safe; he's an old friend of mine."

"If we're going to keep up this 'family' charade, we're running low on little girls," Natasha pointed out, sourly.

"Yeah – not many of our kind left in one piece," Harper commented with a look over at her friend.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more," Naomi chuckled.

"Oh, brother!" Harper complained as she rolled her eyes.

The shopping centre was enormous and the four of them spent the first forty minutes wandering around John Lewis. Then, at around ten, they headed for the restaurant at M&S. There, they took a seat and Jasper went for some drinks. He returned five minutes later with three coffees and two cans of Coke – plus a man.

"Ladies, this is Doug O'Reilly," Jasper introduced. "We worked together."

"Hi," Harper offered lazily as she helped herself to a can of Coke.

"Hello," Naomi said as she grabbed the other can.

"What's going on?" Natasha asked.

"Somebody is pulling strings in Whitehall and people are running scared. What happened to William Fraser of Scorpio Enterprises scared a lot of people. Some believe that _Vengeance_ went too far. There are others who are not happy with the link which _Vengeance_ has to that woman in Chicago – Hit Girl. As I understand it, people want to talk to you, Jasper, and all the members of _Vengeance_. This will all get sorted out, in time, and everything will go back to normal."

Jasper did not appear convinced.

"Who gave the order?" he asked.

"It came from the Home Office, originally, via the Home Secretary. . . Problem, Jasper?"

Jasper was looking at his mobile phone. He pressed something on the screen before placing the phone back in his pocket. He looked at his 'old friend'.

"You're a turncoat, Doug – thirteen pieces of silver too much for to resist?" Jasper growled. "So much for an old friend!"

"Fuck you, Jasper – you sold your soul to the devil. There's something going down and you picked the losing side."

Doug stopped talking as he felt a hand on his right shoulder. He looked up to see Harper standing there – a forced smile on her face.

"Move a fuckin' inch and I cut your fuckin' rat throat," she hissed into his ear, a small blade visible in her left hand, just half an inch from his carotid artery.

* * *

 ** _Two hours later_**

 ** _VAS Thetis_**

"I vote that we cut his balls off," Prowl suggested.

"I vote that we cut his dick off," Glide countered.

"That's because you _are_ a dick!" Prowl retorted.

"Am not!"

"Can we at least _pretend_ that we are professionals?" Crimson growled.

The man in question was secured to a steel chair which, in turn, was secured to the concrete floor. He was blindfolded and gagged. Polaris was gazing at the man – she wanted blood – and she kept playing with several sharp blades.

"If you can't be useful, you two, then FUCK OFF!" the senior vigilante suggested.

Glide scowled. She had only been allowed to come along if she did not overexert herself. Nemesis gave her daughter a stern look which did the trick.

"You need some thick plastic, Polaris?" she asked, knowing that while the man could not see, nor speak, he could hear perfectly.

Polaris grinned, understanding the tactic.

"Definitely – they can detect blood so easily nowadays," she replied, loudly.

The man stiffened, understanding the relevance of the thick plastic. Sleuth was angry – kidnapping had not been on the agenda; however, Drift had been parked in the carpark outside, watching for activity. He had seen the MI5 vehicles closing in and the armed men covertly entering the shopping centre. He had sent a coded alert to Jasper's phone, as well as an emergency egress verbal warning. The alert to Jasper's phone had included a few photos of the teams assembling outside. They had casually walked out of the restaurant and made their way out of a back entrance while Eric had wiped the CCTV system to remove any evidence of their presence.

Jasper and Lynn were working on what to do with the man – there were many within _Vengeance_ who wanted to kill him, but that was not allowed.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

"Kaitlin, please ease up, honey."

"I need to get back into shape."

"You _are_ in shape, honey – you just have a few bruises," Cassie pointed out.

"I want to get back out there."

Cassie groaned. She had found Kaitlin with the other kids all undergoing an intensive workout before dinner. Cassie was impressed with the new kids; they were joining in like they had been doing it for months. Even Olivia, who was very vocal on what she sometimes perceived as 'child abuse', was actively joining in, voluntarily, as was her younger sister. The boys, Christopher and Jeremy were keener on the physical exercise and they liked to compete against the new girls.

Cassie had also noticed Olivia spending time with Craig – and not just constructive time, either. During downtime, they could both be found on a couch together, watching TV. Jasper did _not_ want to know, while Lynn just thought it was cute. As for Craig's parents, they had warned Craig to be careful. . .

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Saturday, October 1st_**

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

The day started bad and ended decidedly worse.

Naomi and Kaitlin had woken up that morning despising one another. Whatever had caused the bickering – nobody knew what that was – it had awoken just about everybody in the house. Cassie had grudgingly hauled herself out of bed to find out what the noise was and she had found her two daughters in the kitchen engaged in a verbal fight with the odd slap thrown in.

"Why do you two do it?" she asked, not expecting much of an answer.

"She kept me awake, last night," Naomi growled.

"My side hurt," Kaitlin countered.

"Did you _have_ to cry about it?"

"Fuck you, bitch!"

"Easy, now!" Cassie cautioned.

"They still at it?" Harper asked as she walked past her two friends.

"Apparently," Cassie replied as she grabbed a loaf of bread and fed the toaster.

..._...

Things did not improve as the morning wore on.

The training session for all broke down into a free for all between the two girls. Cassie figured out the probable cause quite quickly – the girls were under stress, simple as that. Everybody was, only the adults could process and handle stress a lot better than little girls whose ages were not even into double digits.

By lunchtime, Cassie had had enough and the extra stress on her part was giving her migraines – a recurring problem since she was shot. Cassie and Keira checked out the girl's bruises – many were on their faces which was bad for when they were out in public. Natasha decided that a break was needed. She ordered the two girls to go put on their slimline combat suits and some outdoor clothing.

"I'll take the two bitches from hell out for something to eat," Natasha suggested.

"Can I come?"

Keira looked over at Naomi and Kaitlin – they both nodded – before looking over at Olivia.

"Let's go, Ajax."

At the Audi S8, Naomi made for the front passenger seat but she was cut off by the older girl. Olivia looked down at the two girls.

"Me teenager, you squabbling little girls - me go in front."

Natasha laughed as Naomi and Kaitlin reluctantly slunk into the back seat and pulled on their seatbelts while the smirking Olivia slipped into the front passenger seat and fastened up her own seatbelt.

They headed towards York at a sedate speed – at first.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

 ** _Romeo Two Seven_**

 ** _North Yorkshire Police  
Roads Policing Group_**

 ** _On the A1237, north of York_**

The marked Police BMW 3-Series Estate was being driven by Sergeant Janet Hargreaves. Beside her, sat PC Lois Green.

They were on the eight-till-six shift and they had spent the morning patrolling the A64 around the south and east sections of York. They had handed out fourteen tickets, from not wearing a seatbelt to using a mobile phone while driving, and onto the bane of their lives: speeding. Two drivers had no insurance and one had a bald tyre which cost him three points on his licence and a visit to court for a prospective £2,500 fine.

Both women loved their jobs and they enjoyed the freedom of the open road. Neither were novices when it came to policing the roads of North Yorkshire and they had both witnessed horrendous road traffic collisions, or RTCs, during which they had seen life-threatening injuries, as well as death. Their vehicle was fully equipped with the latest in in-car police equipment which would assist them with catching and prosecuting motorists who chose to break the law.

They were cruising west along the road, just passing the Clifton Moor Industrial Estate to the left when the ANPR (Automatic Number Plate Recognition) system beeped to indicate that something had been found. A registration appeared on the display: **FY16 HGF** , followed by the vehicle specifics and then the reason for the alert: **PNC ACTION – Cloned VRM**. The identified vehicle had just passed them, heading east. Sergeant Hargreaves accelerated for the next roundabout, coming around and picking up the same road she had been on, but heading in the opposite direction.

The car in question was a dark blue, Audi S8 saloon.

..._...

As far as they had been able to tell, there were four occupants in the vehicle: an adult female was driving, with four young kids in the car.

Three miles and four roundabouts later, PC Green pressed the buttons which triggered the blue strobe lights that adorned the roof and front of the BMW, as well as activating the siren. The Audi, a dozen yards ahead slowed as if the driver was expecting the police car to accelerate past but Sergeant Hargreaves flashed her headlights and used her hand to indicate that the Audi driver should pull over. Within another thirty seconds, it was obvious that the Audi driver was _not_ taking the hint.

The Audi accelerated away at speed.

"Romeo Two seven. Failing to stop, failing to stop! Heading south on A1237, towards A64 junction," PC Green reported over the radio. "Dark blue Audi S8, four occupants, passing eighty-five."

The Audi slammed on the brakes at the next roundabout, slowing down before taking the exit for the A64 junction. The Audi took the left-hand lane, roaring up the inside at speed and through a red light and then veered to the right around the roundabout, narrowly avoiding a collision with two other road users. Sergeant Hargreaves followed, passing through the traffic, siren screaming.

"Romeo Two Seven. Southbound on A64. Request TPAC."

* * *

 ** _The Audi_**

Natasha knew that she should have stopped.

Only, past events had made her very wary of the authorities – not to mention that she was wary of the traffic police in general. Thus, at the first sight of the blue lights, instinct had told her to put her foot down. Her desire for self-preservation then had her tearing up the Highway Code and ultimately driving like the hot-headed maniac which was when she was behind the wheel.

"At this rate, we're going to be on 'Traffic Cops'," Olivia pointed out a few minutes later as Natasha shot past other road users.

As they passed beneath a junction, Kaitlin made a brief comment.

"We're boned!" the girl commented. "Four more cars joining us, blues and twos."

Natasha scowled as she saw a total of _five_ marked police cars in her rear-view mirror, all BMWs, and all with blue lights flashing.

It was time to make a phone call.

* * *

 ** _Romeo Two Seven_**

Tactical Pursuit And Containment, or TPAC, is used by the police to bring a potentially dangerous vehicle pursuit to a swift and safe end, protecting both police and the general public from harm.

In a short space of time, the other four police vehicles took up coordinated positions, two BMWs racing on ahead and taking up position ahead and just to the left of the Audi on the hard shoulder. Another BMW moved alongside the BMW while Romeo Two Seven took up position on the hard shoulder and the final BMW moved into position within a few inches of the Audi's rear bumper. Under the command of the front vehicle, each police vehicle slowly applied their brakes and the Audi driver was compelled to brake to avoid a collision until the group of six vehicles came to a halt in a mass of blue lights, just short of the A19 junction.

While the driver 'came quietly', as did the older of the passengers, the remaining two passengers, did not.

* * *

 ** _Fulford Road Police Station_**

"Fuck you!"

The police officer slammed the hatch in the cell door and she laughed.

"Spirited youngster," PC Green commented to the custody sergeant in the custody suite. "How old is she?"

"Let me check the notes: 'I'm fucking eight, you got that, you thick bastard', were her exact words," the custody sergeant chuckled.

"Got the wild one safely contained," Sergeant Hargreaves grinned as she entered the suite.

"Yeah – got some attitude that one," PC Green admitted.

"The other two girls and the woman, contained?"

"Yes, though they haven't said much since they were stripped. What were those suits, anyway, some kind of body armour?"

"They were tooled up for something," the custody sergeant commented.

"Anything come up for them?"

"No – their prints aren't in the computer – none of them."

"The little one is off limits until she calms down – but she needs checked on every fifteen," PC Green advised. "Let's pull the woman and see what she has to say for herself, in about an hour."

* * *

 ** _Six hours later_**

Natasha was fuming.

She could not believe that it had been a simple traffic stop for a cloned number plate – that was bullshit in itself; their number plates were clean. Somebody was fucking with them to get them into custody. Her mind had been playing scenarios for hours. She had been able to come to one conclusion – they were trapped and somebody was coming hunting, she was certain of it. Moments before they had handed themselves over to the police, Natasha had made an urgent phone call to Eric to make him aware of their predicament. All four of their Vengeance mobile phones were disabled, permanently, by Eric at that point rendering them useless.

There had been a brief, but heated, discussion in the car in the final minutes, detailing what might happen next as it was not expected that they would be able to talk freely after they were arrested. Naturally, Olivia was very scared while the two young girls had taken the unfolding events in their stride with Kaitlin being given a role to play with the assistance of Naomi. Natasha was concerned that if they were not in custody, then they might be at greater risk of something worse than incarceration at Her Majesty's Pleasure. She had toyed with the idea of outrunning the police cars – an easy task with the S8 but they would have nowhere to go and then there would be a manhunt.

There had been an interview with the traffic cops who had stopped them – a total waste of time as Natasha gave up nothing and due to Kaitlin's behaviour, she had not been interviewed and the other two girls had been put off limits as Natasha had understood it. The police were unsure what to make of the four of them. During a body search, their combat suits had been discovered along with a selection of slightly illegal, to extremely illegal weaponry. All four of them had been stripped – Kaitlin by _four_ female police officers – and left in their underwear for an hour before receiving some very fetching disposable white suits which went well with the handcuffs they each wore.

"You can fuck right off!" Kaitlin had exclaimed. "You think I'm going to wear that bloody thing? It'll be like wearing a fucking tent!"

Kaitlin remained in her underwear.

..._...

It was a little after nine in the evening and Natasha knew that they were on borrowed time. Right on schedule, she heard screaming and banging from another cell and then an alarm as Naomi hit the panic button in her cell. There was the sound of running feet and then the sound of a lock being turned and a heavy door being heaved open.

"What's going on?" a voice called out.

"Looks like the girl's having a seizure."

"Get the adult out – we need to know what's going on."

Natasha stood up as she heard the lock on her cell door being turned and then the door being heaved open.

"One of the girls appears ill – we need to know what might be wrong with her," the female custody sergeant explained as she waved Natasha out of the cell.

"What's wrong with her?" Natasha asked with feigned concern.

"She collapsed but managed to trigger her panic alarm. We can't get much sense out of her, although she has calmed down," the officer informed Natasha.

Natasha was led to another cell where she found Naomi being helped to her feet and then through into the custody suite where they both sat on plastic seating which was bolted to the floor. Naomi wiped away her forced tears and she smiled up at Natasha, putting on a show of being a scared little girl. The police officers did not appear to be buying the show but they had to give the nine-year-old the benefit of the doubt. Naomi was given a warm mug of tea with plenty of sugar. The girl sipped at it, which wasn't all that easy in the rigid cuffs.

"I'll leave you two to sit there for a few minutes," the sergeant said as she returned to her place behind a tall counter with a colleague.

Suddenly, the lights went out and all the computers wound down. Natasha braced up. The two police officers in the space also sensed trouble.

"It's not just a power cut, is it?" Naomi asked, dropping the act of being a scared little girl, with concern in her voice.

"Hey!" a male voice called out in the darkness and then there was the unmistakeable staccato sound of suppressed gunfire closely followed by a scream and then the thud of a body hitting the ground.

"No – it is not," Natasha stated.


	30. Allies

**_Saturday, October 1st, 2016_**

 ** _Fulford Road Police Station_**

It was difficult to see much as the only lighting was that of the battery-powered emergency lighting.

Natasha and Naomi were both figuring out the tactical situation. Kaitlin was still secured, as was Olivia. They were both out but handcuffed. They were both wearing underwear and disposable white suits. As Naomi watched, the sergeant tried to make use of her phone – she slammed it down in disgust.

"Dead!"

"Your radios?" Naomi asked.

"No response on the net," the other police officer commented as he looked over at his colleague. "We're on our own."

"We're in danger," Naomi said and she raised her wrists towards the police officers. "Can you undo us?"

"No chance, honey," the custody sergeant replied as she stared into the darkness. "Both of you, get behind the desk."

Naomi and Natasha did exactly as they were directed and they made their way behind the desk. The male police officer secured the sturdy door just as a man, clad all in black, appeared in the doorway to the custody suite. He was illuminated by the emergency lighting above his head as he raised his weapon – an H&K MP5 submachine gun fitted with a suppressor – but before he could open fire the custody sergeant slammed her hand down on a red button to the right of the desk and with a crash, a steel shutter shot upwards and secured the office area.

Bullets could be heard pinging off the shutter on the far side.

..._...

Natasha looked over at the sergeant.

"You need to let us go," she said. "We can help you."

"Come on, honey – you think I was born yesterday?"

"You have people down, out there. We have the skills to protect you and whomever remains. We can get you all to safety. Give us a chance, please?"

The sergeant and her colleague studied Natasha and Naomi for a full minute.

"What have we got to lose, Sergeant?" the male officer asked his superior who simply shrugged in response.

"In for a penny. . ." the custody sergeant grimaced as she stepped over towards Naomi and unlocked the cuffs from her wrists before turning to Natasha. "If you two make me regret this. . ."

"We won't!" Naomi said sweetly with a huge grin.

"Our weapons . . . where are they?" Natasha asked the officers once her hands were free.

"The firearms are locked in the basement . . . but your bodysuits and other kit is in the locker over there."

Naomi ran over and she began to ransack the indicated locker, throwing kit out onto the floor. She and Natasha ripped open the evidence bags and they quickly pulled off the disposable white suits before pulling on their slimline combat suits and clothing. The two police officers looked on in awe as the two females dressed and armed themselves in a very speedy, orderly, and professional fashion.

"Keys, for the cells where our friends are," Naomi demanded as she pulled on her mask and held out a gloved hand.

"In for a pound. . ." the custody sergeant chuckled as she handed over the keys to the cells. "Cell 5 – down and around the corner for the older girl – and cell 14 for your psycho friend."

"Can I borrow this?" Naomi asked as she swiped a yellow Taser from a holder beneath the custody desk.

"Be my guest."

..._...

The next problem was escaping from the custody office without getting a bullet in the head which would _not_ be a desirable end to the day.

Natasha studied the ceiling tiles for a moment or two and then she smiled. Dragging a table over, she jumped up and pushed aside one of the tiles from the suspended ceiling before peering into the void. Natasha looked down at the diminutive form of Naomi Ward who looked back and groaned.

"I think you're going to fit, just fine!" Natasha chuckled as she pulled Naomi up onto the table.

"The bad side of being thin and gorgeous," Naomi muttered.

The custody sergeant laughed as Naomi was stuffed into the ceiling void.

"Take it slowly. Can you see the vent? Go see what's going on," Natasha directed.

..._...

The nine-year-old girl grumbled to herself as she nimbly moved from aluminium stretcher to aluminium stretcher, hoping that the wire mounts were firm and strong. Naomi did not weigh very much but the ceiling was not designed to have somebody crawling through the void, so she had to be very careful. Despite the steel shutters being bulletproof, they were not soundproof, and neither was the air vent a few feet away. There was the sound of shouting and gunshots from beyond and Naomi was well aware that if anybody was below her, they would be able to hear her, should she make a noise.

Once she reached the air vent, Naomi listened for any movement immediately below – she could hear nothing – but she kept listening for another minute, just in case. Beyond the air vent, it was dark – the nearest emergency light was a few yards away at the opposite end of the custody suite – so Naomi took a chance and she unclipped the rectangular air vent, then pulled it back inside and laid it down on top of the roof tile to her right. Tentatively, the young girl stuck her head out of the gaping hole and she peered downwards – pay dirt!

Slowly, the girl replaced the air vent before moving carefully back towards the open tile.

..._...

"Well?" Natasha asked.

"One man, just to the right of the door – he's waiting for us to come out," Naomi reported.

"Not good."

"If you can make a noise at the door – you know, as if you were coming out – I can take him from above using you as the distraction."

"You sure?"

"I need to find Kaitlin."

"Okay."

Naomi returned to her air vent while Natasha pulled out a six-inch knife and walked over to the door where she made noisy efforts to work the bolts. Naomi, meanwhile, had removed the air vent for the second time and she used her flexibility to hang downwards, her back against the steel shutter. In her right hand, she held a four-inch blade while her left held the borrowed Taser. The man, clad in black, and with his sub-machinegun aimed at the doorway had no idea that a vicious killer was dangling just above and behind him.

"Hi!" Prowl hissed.

The man's head jerked around and he found himself staring at an inverted masked object which was just visible in the dim illumination. He had no time to say or do anything as the Taser was jammed into the bare skin on his neck and he shuddered as 20,000-volts tore through his body, convulsing his muscles as he dropped to the lino flooring.

Prowl followed, dropping to the ground silently where she slit his throat.

..._...

"Oh, my God!" the custody sergeant exclaimed when she saw the obviously dead body lying in a pool of its own blood.

It was not the sight of the body which shocked her – she had seen many in her career – it was the coldness of the tender-aged killer. The murderer, or should that have been executioner, was checking out the nearest corridor. She held the dead man's H&K MP5 like a pro, the veteran police officer thought.

"We go for Olivia, first," Crimson suggested and Prowl nodded. "You two – stay in the office until we've cleared the building."

The two police officers nodded at the masked individuals as they retreated back into the custody office as Natasha took custody of the dead man's pistol and three spare magazines. She passed two full MP5 magazines over to Naomi who shoved them into her pockets. The pair moved off down the corridor to the right and towards the sound of voices. They moved slowly in the darkness watching out for an ambush or friendlies. They passed two dead police officers – the attackers did not appear to care about who they were putting down.

As they neared the voices, they heard a scream – it was a young girl's scream and they both recognised it as being Olivia. She was obviously no longer in her cell. The two vigilantes increased their pace but stopped at the next turn in the corridor.

"Shut up, you snivelling bitch!" a voice snarled and there was the sound of a slap followed by a scream of pain.

"You . . . you will all die, you know!"

Prowl looked over at Crimson in surprise – it had been Olivia's voice. The voice was full of fear but she was obviously digging deep for some courage.

"In your dreams . . . there is nobody here who can prevent us from completing our mission."

Surprisingly, Olivia laughed.

"You have _no_ idea _who_ you're dealing with, do you?" came her voice with a lot more conviction.

..._...

"What are a bunch of fucked up kids going to do?"

"We are _not_ kids," came an electronically enhanced voice from behind the man. "We are _Predators_!"

"What the fu. . ."

The man never completed his sentence as a triple burst from the MP5 blew his skull apart, showering Olivia with blood, bone, and brain matter. Before the shocked and horrified teenager could scream, Crimson put two bullets into the head of the other man, adding some more blood, bone, and brain matter to the shaking, petrified youngster. Olivia just stood there until Prowl reached up and slapped the older girl around the face – twice. Olivia looked down at Prowl.

"Slap me again, Prowl, and I'll fuckin' floor you!" she growled as tears of relief ran down her face.

"Good on ya, Ajax!" Prowl replied.

"Who were they?"

"Good question," Crimson replied. "But they aren't here for our health."

"Let's move we need to find Kaitlin," Prowl pushed.

As they moved off, with Olivia in between them, Prowl asked her friend a question.

"Glad you came out with us, Ajax?"

Olivia actually laughed.

"Ask me again when we get home."

* * *

 ** _Outside Fulford Road Police Station_**

The three SO15 Ford Mondeo hatchbacks drove into a firestorm as they turned off the Fulford Road.

The first car was struck by a hail of bullets which shattered the windscreen and wounded the driver and the front passenger. The car skidded into a lamppost coming to halt blocking the entrance road. The second car slammed on its brakes but not before it collided with the first car's boot but the driver pushed past and he drove at two black-clad gunmen, hitting them both, throwing one over the top of his car. The third car stopped short and the driver shifted into reverse and accelerated back out into the street before stopping dead and everybody dived out, automatic weapons in their hands. A fourth vehicle, a Range Rover skidded to a halt beside the Mondeo and disgorged a man who wore a suit and tie along with three others, all armed. A gunfight ensued between the occupants of the Mondeos and several gunmen firing from cover.

"Bloody hell!" Commander Haig groaned. "This is going to take a lot to explain – talk about a jurisdictional nightmare!"

* * *

 ** _Inside Fulford Road Police Station_**

Kaitlin knew something was up, but she had no idea what.

She banged on her cell door but she received no response for several minutes during which she heard shouts, screams, and what she swore had to be gunshots. Finally, she heard the lock being turned.

"About fucking time!" she growled as the door was heaved open.

Kaitlin froze as a man came into view – he was no police officer; he was clad from head-to-toe in black with body armour protecting his torso. He was also pointing an automatic weapon directly at her.

"Go ahead," Kaitlin drawled as she stared at the man without any outward hint of fear. "Make my day."

"Get down on the floor – keep your hands where I can see them," the man ordered, ignoring the little girl's misplaced bravado.

Kaitlin followed the man's orders as she went down on her knees but before she could drop face down, she heard three suppressed gunshots at close range and she cringed thinking that the man was shooting at her.

..._...

"What _are_ you doing down there?"

Kaitlin looked up at the voice, surprised to recognise it, and even more surprised to hear it in the police station during a vicious attack.

"That expression looks anything but clever and you don't _need_ to kneel before me, but it's good to see that you know your place," the young girl grinned as Kaitlin scowled and quickly jumped to her feet. "Bit chilly for underwear, I would have thought, and I didn't know you were into cuffs."

"You finished being funny?" Kaitlin demanded with a scowl before she grinned. "Good to see you, Rigour."

"Likewise," Rigour replied from behind her mask, an H&K MP5K sub-machinegun held loosely in her hands.

..._...

A corridor away, Prowl stayed in cover until the man emptied his magazine in her direction, and then she stepped out, her own MP5 raised.

"You're out of bullets," she growled. "And you know what that means: you're shit outta luck."

A brief squeeze of the trigger and the man's face vanished in a cloud of blood. Prowl calmly ejected the weapon's magazine and she inserted a fresh one before slapping the cocking lever down and forwards. Prowl moved off with Olivia close behind and Crimson covering their rear. Olivia was stunned by what she was seeing. She knew what _Vengeance_ did and for the first time, she had witnessed them killing but seeing the dead bodies, both friendlies and enemies, was a nasty shock to the thirteen-year-old. Memories pushed far back in her mind were beginning to resurface of other dead bodies, including those of her own parents. She knew that she would have vicious nightmares that night – assuming she actually survived to go to bed.

The place stank of death and there was a coppery taste in the air which Olivia could not place. Whatever was going on with _Vengeance_ , Olivia realised that she was smack in the middle of it whether or not she wanted to be there. It was time for her to step up and be an asset rather than a hindrance – she owed them all that for saving her life and she vowed to stop being a bitch who did not really care about the training which she was being offered to save her life.

The girl was hauled back to reality as Prowl yelled out.

..._...

"Rigour!"

Rigour spun around to find Prowl running down the corridor with Crimson and another girl close behind. Prowl hugged her friend. After a minute, Rigour noticed the older girl.

"Who's the bloody spare?"

"That's Olivia – she's an apprentice called Ajax," Prowl replied.

"Cool," Electra replied as she looked the blood-covered Olivia up and down. "She one of us?"

"No chance!"

"She any good?"

"Fucking useless!" Kaitlin replied with a wink at Olivia who scowled at the gibe.

The group made their way back towards the custody suite and hammered on the office door.

"We're back!" Prowl called out.

The door opened slowly and a very relieved Sergeant waved them inside. Naomi pulled off her mask and she showed Kaitlin and Olivia where their own suits and clothing were.

"So, how did you all get out?"

"We just had Kaitlin be obnoxious and difficult," Natasha advised Electra. "Then Naomi pretended to be ill."

"You mean, Kaitlin just had to be herself?" Electra questioned.

Kaitlin glared up at Electra as she dressed, ignoring Olivia who was giggling.

"Oh, ha, fuckin', ha – my sides are splitting!" Kaitlin growled.

Natasha brought up her pistol as she heard movement outside the custody office.

"Well, if you lot have finished, we have gunmen at large!" Commander Haig suggested with an annoyed tone. "Not to mention several Armed Response Vehicles."

"Let's move," Natasha ordered once everybody was suitably attired with masks and Kaitlin and Olivia had finished dressing.

"Thank you," the custody sergeant said to Prowl.

"You're welcome," Prowl responded. "We're the good guys. I'm sorry about your colleagues."

"You're going to need this," the sergeant called out.

Prowl reached out as something came flying through the air. She caught the small black object and looked at it – it was the key to the Audi S8.

"Thanks."

They moved off towards the exit. Commander Haig led the way, striding ahead while the others followed with Sergeant Woodward covering their rear as they went. They had almost reached the exit into the car park when a not-quite-dead body moved and a bloody hand tried to raise a pistol.

"No, you bloody don't!" Commander Haig growled as he pressed a highly-polished brogue onto the almost-dead man's wrist, pinning it to the ground.

The Commander reached down with a gloved hand and he pulled the pistol from the bloody hand before putting a bullet in the man's head and dropping the pistol.

"Bloody menace!"

..._...

Outside, there was carnage.

Natasha gasped as she took in the crashed, bullet-ridden cars, the dead bodies and the muted sound of injured people. Four men and a woman stood near the main road, waving the Commander forwards – they were obviously his people. They hurried over to the armed SO15 officers who stood close by where their Audi was parked.

"Can you take Electra?" Commander Haig asked. "She insisted on coming but if they find that I brought my granddaughter on a raid – well, you can just imagine."

"Of course," Natasha replied.

A grinning Electra ran off towards a Range Rover where she pulled a backpack from the boot and then returned to the Audi, still grinning.

"Get in," Natasha directed the young girl. "Thanks, Commander."

"Go – quickly."

Natasha slid behind the wheel and she quickly checked that she had four girls with her before starting the engine and pulling away.

* * *

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

"Only you, could get caught up in a police chase!"

Natasha grinned at her twin brother who hugged her tightly.

"Oh, thank, God!" Cassie exclaimed as she swept forwards and drew both of her girls into a hug.

Naomi and Kaitlin were very happy for the attention after their unfortunate day out and both tried to hide their tears of joy at seeing Cassie again. Olivia was pounced on by her sister and then by Jasper and Lynn, followed by Christopher. Olivia didn't care that she was crying, she as just glad to be safe.

"Always knew that you two would become jailbait," Harper commented with a smirk.

Secretly, she was very happy for the return of her friends, but she could not pass up the opportunity to have a dig at them. She was about to make a few more derogatory comments when she saw the diminutive form of another girl partially hidden behind Natasha. Electra's eyes went wide as she was all but flattened by Harper who came thundering towards her before the older girl wrapped her friend in a bearhug.

"Good to see you, Electra," Craig said with a grin. "Obviously took a proper _Predator_ to rescue these pretenders!"

..._...

Electra almost purred with pride at the compliment. Having come up the hard way, from being a Yellow, the youngster always felt second-class to those who had been selected directly as _Predators_. The moment she had heard that her friends were in trouble, she had insisted on going with her grandfather to help. He had said, no – at first – but then Electra had detailed her capabilities to him and shown him her slimline combat suit. He had given in, knowing that Electra was not about to back down when her friends were in danger.

She had relished the chance to do something for them and while the attack had been scary, Electra had enjoyed it. There was a part of her that enjoyed the danger and . . . to some extent . . . the killing. She had dived into the police station with Sergeant Woodward a few yards behind her – _that_ had been non-negotiable! The corridors had been dimly lit by emergency lighting which created dark shadows where an enemy might be lurking. They had stopped in one corridor where a police officer was dying – he had been shot in the stomach and was bleeding badly, internally. Sergeant Woodward remained with him while Electra ran off down the corridor where she heard voices – more specifically, the obnoxious voice of her friend, Kaitlin.

"I'm glad to be here – I just wish it was under happy circumstances."

"Yeah," Kaitlin agreed. "Tell us about it!"

..._...

Despite the late hour, there were many discussions ongoing. The arrest and then the attack had come as a very rude awakening to all. The danger had just increased to an almost unimaginable level and the adults sat down to discuss the way forward while the youngsters chatted for a short time before those, who had spent many hours incarcerated, soon fell asleep. However, it all came to ahead soon after midnight.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, October 2nd_**

 ** _Safehouse VY_**

Jasper was musing things over while the other adults talked animatedly as a news bulletin started on the TV.

"Shut up, all of you!" he called out and all turned to face the television.

 _BBC News_

 _'Seven police officers are dead, after a police station in the North Yorkshire city of York was attacked by unknown forces. It is not believed to be terrorist-related, however, the Home Office has yet to comment on the deaths.'_

"Not good. . ." Jasper commented as he turned off the television.

"I think it is time to leave for pastures new," Cameron declared. "We have extra intelligence which we need to address. The current information available to us shows the trail beginning in the north, therefore, I would suggest that we head north. Nats, how about we head up to Loch Ewe?"

Natasha thought about that for a moment.

"Check in on Hull 67? Maybe go for a cruise?" she prompted.

"We could do with the break and it would get us out of harm's way for a few days," Cameron replied.

"What _are_ you two on about?" Keira demanded.


	31. Hull 67

**_Sunday, October 2nd, 2016_**

 ** _The Scottish Highlands, Scotland_**

It had been a twelve-hour, five-hundred-mile, drive.

They had set off at four in the morning, avoiding the early morning traffic. Marinette, Adrien, Alya, Trevor, and Eric were remaining at the Safehouse with Amy and Alexandra, leaving the remaining eighteen to be shipped north in four vehicles.

"Where are we going?" Kaitlin bleated for about the thousandth time as they travelled along a narrow road.

"We are heading to sea," Cassie finally admitted, then she grinned, an evil glint in her eye. "You remember your SOLaS training, don't you, honey?"

"Vividly!" Kaitlin growled as her eyes narrowed.

...+...

The four young girls were frightened.

It was impossible to see, what with all the water and the spray, but each of the girls had tears flooding down their faces. Each was very close to becoming terrified as they found themselves falling into the heaving water. They each plunged into the unforgiving waves which closed over their heads and it felt like hours, instead of just mere seconds, before four small heads burst out of the water and coughed out the water before breathing in lungful's of lifegiving air.

The waves peaked at over twelve feet lifting the girls upwards and then dropping them into the troughs before another wave swept in and carried them to the tip before dropping them again. Their lifejackets keeping them afloat and their heads above the water. Slowly, their training began to overtake the shock of the immersion into the cold, heaving water. Then came a shout over the screaming wind.

"Over here! Over here!"

The four girls began to swim towards the voice as rain splashed on their faces and the waves threw even more water over their heads. As they crested the next wave, they caught sight of the dayglo orange liferaft, just a dozen yards away from them. Hanging onto the boarding ladder were Cassie and Natasha. The four girls young were all reasonable swimmers, but the waves were strong and the raft was being blown by the wind in the opposite direction.

"Move!" came a voice from behind them and they turned to see Cameron and Craig swimming hard towards them.

With the help of the boys, the four girls were edged closer and closer to the liferaft and safety. Kaitlin was overjoyed when she felt Cassie grab her outstretched hand. But there was no time for greetings as the girl was thrust out of the water and thrown into the liferaft. Electra followed, unceremoniously thrown aboard after her friend. Harper and Naomi both clambered up the boarding ladder and heaved themselves aboard. Craig hauled himself up next, then Cassie was heaved aboard by the strong arms of Cameron before he pushed his twin sister aboard and then climbed aboard himself.

The inside of the liferaft was lit only by a small LED light fitting at the apex of the rubber arch which held up the dayglo orange canopy. Cameron and Craig fought to seal the entry hatch and prevent more of the freezing cold water from entering their temporary shelter from the raging storm. The girls were each shaking with cold and fear as they tried to get comfortable and wait out the storm.

The wind roared making speech next to impossible. The raging sea heaved the small raft up and down and then over almost onto its beam ends. The eight people – men, women, and children – all crammed into the tiny space felt claustrophobic and queasy. The raft was tossed about on the towering waves for another fifteen minutes before the violent movements began to ease. Then miraculously, the raft stopped moving entirely and the raging wind died down to nothing. Silence reigned, followed by the very vocal relief of the eight people present. For a moment, nothing happened, but then there was movement and the Velcro fixings of the entry hatch were pulled apart.

"Well done, class; you all did very well. Let's get you all dried off, warmed up, and then we can debrief."

The man vanished as they began to scramble out of the liferaft and onto the side of the oversized swimming pool.

...+...

Oh, yes, Kaitlin remembered her Safety Of Life at Sea training, all right! It had scared the living daylights out of her – Harper, Naomi, and Electra had not exactly enjoyed it either. Craig had thought it was fun – but then he was a boy and therefore, strange. As far as she could remember, Cassie had not been a fan of her own dunking, so it was rich of her to be teasing her youngest daughter about it! Kaitlin was dragged out of her thoughts by the view over Loch Ewe – it was amazing. Midway between the two sides of the Loch, two hulls were visible. One, in a dark glossy blue, the other, slightly larger hull, in a glossy grey.

"She's moored out there on the Z-Berth," Cassie announced.

"There's _two_ boats out there," Harper pointed out as she stared out over the water.

"The other yacht is Mindy's."

"The _Ocean Vigilante_?" Naomi asked.

"That would be the one."

"What's our one called?" Kaitlin asked.

"Well, she has no name right now, just a designation: Hull 67."

* * *

 ** _Aultbea  
Northwest Highlands, Scotland_**

They were met at the dock by a dirty workboat which sat in the water, its diesel engines burbling away in readiness for departure.

"Good evening!" a smiling Petty Officer offered in greeting.

"Evening, Petty Officer!" Chief Petty Officer (Retired) David Montgomery responded as he waved everybody aboard the workboat.

A seaman stood on the foredeck ready to cast off as bags and packs were passed aboard. After fifteen minutes, all was ready and the mooring lines were cast off as the Petty Officer advanced the throttles, turning the workboat away from the NATO POL depot on the east shore of the loch and turned northwest to leave the Isle of Ewe to port en route to the Z-Berth and the two moored yachts.

The trip was short, being well under two nautical miles.

* * *

 ** _Hull 67_**

The forty-metre hull was a gloss deep blue with a red hull below the waterline.

A quarter-inch gold stripe ran from just above the anchor, along the port and starboard sides. The upper works of the mega-yacht were white and extended up over three decks topped off with a rigid sun canopy and a pair of satellite communications domes mounted high-up above the superstructure on the buff-coloured mast. Aft, the hull carved down to a teak deck just above the water with a pair of stairways leading up to the main deck on either side.

The workboat came alongside at the stern and a naval rating aboard the yacht took the mooring lines and tied them off on a pair of highly-polished, stainless steel stanchions. Many sets of eyes darted around as they all looked up at the towering decks above them. The yacht was lit up, looking homely and inviting in the looming darkness and under the grey Scottish skies.

"Engines are warm, as is the lub oil. Fuel tanks are full and the fresh water's been topped off. I also took the liberty of storing the galley with fresh goods."

"Thank you, Petty Officer," the Chief replied approvingly.

..._...

Once aboard, Natasha took charge.

"This is the main deck and we have the lounge, the dining area, the galley, and the master cabin. Jasper and Lynn will take the master cabin, forward. Everyone else will sleep on the lower deck. Olivia, Jessica, Naomi, and Harper – you will occupy the aft cabin. Kaitlin, Yvette, and Electra – the forward cabin. Cassie and Keira will take the starboard cabin while myself and my brother will occupy the port cabin. Take the stairs down on the starboard side. The boys need to go past the galley and head down the stairs forward. Craig, Jeremy and Christopher will take the aft starboard side cabin while David will take the port forward cabin."

"You all have fifteen minutes to stow your gear securely," the Chief directed. "Then you will all return to the lounge for a safety brief before we head out to sea."

"Safety brief?" Harper growled unhappily.

"Yes, young lady," the Chief said sternly. "You may have free rein while fighting ashore, but when you are in one of my aircraft, or on this yacht, _I_ set the rules."

"Yes, Chief," Harper replied quickly as she fled forward.

* * *

 ** _Twenty minutes later_**

"... The seas off Scotland are wild, at this time of year. This yacht is nothing but a pint pot in the grand scheme of things. Those of you who received training in life rafts can inform those who have not, about what it was like to be dunked in cold water and forced to swim for your lives. While we are on what amounts to a pleasure cruise, _do not get complacent_! The events of the yesterday should all be fresh in everybody's mind – _constant vigilance_! You have all been shown your lifejackets and the locations for the life rafts. I urge you all to familiarise yourselves with the routine for abandoning ship and the fire-fighting facilities. For now, I want Cameron, Craig, Jeremy, and Olivia on the fo'c'sle to help with the lines, if you please. Natasha, Cassie, Naomi, and Harper, please lay aft to remove the springs and aft mooring lines. Keira, I understand you have your bridge ticket – please lay to the bridge. You and I will take this barge to sea."

"Aye, aye, Chief!" Keira said smartly as she headed for the stairs to the bridge.

* * *

 ** _The Bridge_**

Keira received a shock when she entered the broad bridge which extended from beam to beam and was located roughly amidships. Five large, sharply-angled, windows looked out over the extensive bow with additional glazing to port and starboard as well as a door to each bridge wing.

Standing at the port console, facing forwards was a tall woman with her fiery-red hair tied back into a bun on the back of her head. The woman turned to greet Keira with a broad grin. Keira was more than surprised to see her former cabinmate aboard the yacht.

"Daddy suggested that I take some leave to come help you guys. I understand that you've got yourselves into a little bit of a pickle!" Sub-Lieutenant Sarah Perrin commented.

"It's good to see you, Sarah," Keira said as she hugged her friend. "Does Cassie know?"

"Not yet – Mum does, though."

"She'll freak," Keira pointed out.

"That she will," Sarah grinned. "You'll be the First Lieutenant aboard. I'll be assuming the Captain's duties with the Chief in charge of the deck and the engine room. We'll alternate the watches while at sea – you take the port watch while I'll take the starboard watch."

"Standard dogged?" Keira queried.

"Well remembered!" Sarah chuckled.

..._...

The yacht was a hive of activity.

From the bridge which was bathed in a dull red illumination, Keira and Sarah kept an eye on the digital and graphical instrumentation whilst watching the activity on the cameras which covered the entire vessel. On the bow, Cameron, Craig, Jeremy, and Olivia were under the instruction of a Royal Navy seaman as he directed them towards the forward moorings which secured the yacht, both to the neighbouring _Ocean Vigilante_ , and the huge steel mooring buoy. The trick was to disengage their own yacht without casting Mindy's pride and joy adrift – not a good idea should you be looking forward to a long and healthy life!

The engines were alive, sending small vibrations throughout the yacht, and primed to move the 260-ton yacht through the surging North Atlantic Ocean swells beyond the sheltered inlet. On the port-side deck, the springs – which prevented the yachts from rubbing fore and aft when secured together – were cast off by Cassie and Naomi under the watchful eyes of another Royal Navy seaman.

At the stern, the Chief supervised Natasha and Harper as they begin to loosen the stern lines.

..._...

As the clock ticked over to 20:00, Sarah picked up the microphone for the ship-wide tannoy.

"All hands! Standby for departure – single up all lines, fore and aft."

After a short pause, reports came in from the foredeck and the afterdeck confirming that the lines were singled up.

"Cast off, forward . . . port shaft, dead-slow ahead . . . starboard shaft, dead-slow astern.

Keira made the necessary adjustments to the engine controls and the twin 51.7-litre diesel engines, each producing 3,460-horsepower, increased their output to the gearbox and thence the twin shafts. The bow began to slowly swing out, away from the buoy and the _Ocean Vigilante_.

 _"Forward lines, clear,"_ came the report from the foredeck.

"Stop shafts . . . cast off, aft."

Two minutes later, came the call.

 _"Stern lines, clear."_

"Half ahead, both," Sarah directed.

Keira obeyed the commands instantly as Sarah switched between the chart on the screen before her, the radar, the foredeck, and a set of large marine binoculars to check what was ahead. The two Royal Navy officers were all business as they conned the multi-million-pound mega-yacht out of the inlet. They headed on a course which took them around the northern tip of the Isle of Ewe before slowing to allow the Royal Navy seamen to jump aboard the workboat which then headed for the land.

Hull 67 came around onto a heading of 334° which would take them well clear of the land.

* * *

 ** _Ten miles northwest of Loch Ewe  
Position:58.0046° N 5.7291° W  
Course: 294°, Speed: 12 knots, 10nm logged_**

Kaitlin was giggling.

Olivia was puking.

"Wait for it. . ." Cassie grinned as Kaitlin continued to giggle at the unfortunate teenager.

Cassie had noticed that despite Kaitlin's happiness, the little girl was turning an interesting shade of green. Olivia was soon joined out on the afterdeck by Kaitlin who began to heave up everything that she had eaten in the past few hours. Within minutes, the two girls were joined by Harper, Jeremy, and Yvette. Naomi and Electra both looked unwell as they sat on a couch. Craig had no such issues and he was on the bridge assisting the watchkeepers.

Cassie still had no idea who was on the bridge with Keira. She was too busy keeping an eye on the kids. Lynn was in the galley producing coffee and a light supper of meat sandwiches – for those with stronger stomachs! Jasper had ferried some coffee up to the watchkeepers, earlier that evening while David and Cameron had spent some time down in the engine room checking everything over. The night was dark and the sea was anything but calm. The rolling waves peaked at five feet before breaking and the movement had the yacht's stabilisers working fulltime to counter the seas constant undulating motion. Once they were out of the lee of the land, the wind began to hammer the yacht, shaking the windows and lashing said windows with cold needle-like spray.

It was another hour before the queasy girls acquired their sea legs – at least enough to abandon the cold outer deck and curl up on the cosy couches in the lounge.

..._...

"Did we _have_ to hand him over?" Kaitlin whined. "I wanted to torture him."

"It was dangerous to hang onto him and it was safer to hand him off to Commander Haig," Jasper explained.

"It sucks!" Kaitlin went on. "We're on the run and we've accomplished nothing in over a week!"

"Easy, Kaitlin," Jasper said, smiling at the fiery little eight-year-old girl. "We _will_ start making a dent in the Axis behind this, I promise you that, Kaitlin."

"I just hate this waiting and . . ."

"We know, honey," Cassie said as she hugged the girl tightly but then Cassie's eyes went wide as somebody else appeared in the lounge.

"I'm hungry – any chance of a sandwich?"

"Sarah!" Cassie exclaimed as she jumped up, causing Kaitlin to fall to the deck. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Cassie stepped over Kaitlin and she made for her sister.

"Don't mind me!" Kaitlin growled from the deck. "I'm only your goddamn daughter!"

"I came aboard this afternoon. Daddy wanted me to help out where I could – I was on the way north when I heard from Spook that you were heading for Loch Ewe and I changed my destination."

Sarah hugged her younger sister for well over a minute before they both separated.

"I hear that I have a pair of petulant nieces," Sarah said as she looked down at Kaitlin then over at Naomi. "Does Aunt Sarah, get a hug?"

The two girls scrambled up off the floor and the couch before they threw themselves at their Aunt Sarah. After a few moments, Natasha broke the mood.

"Right – there is a busy day ahead, tomorrow. All will be up at 0600. . ."

"Fuck that!" Kaitlin muttered to general agreement from the other youngsters.

". . . you will wash – that includes you Kaitlin. . ."

"Why does everybody always look at me?"

"Because, honey, when there is something going down, you are always smack in the middle of it."

"Not my fault – shit just finds me. . ."

There was a bang as Cassie placed something on the table.

"Let's agree on a fiver, for now, sweetie," she said with a smile.

Kaitlin reluctantly dug in her pocket from where she produced a handful of change and a partially consumed packet of Haribo's.

"I can do, four pounds and . . . forty-two pence."

Cassie pointed at the swear jar and Kaitlin dumped her life's savings inside.

"As I was saying," Natasha grouched. "You will wash and be dressed by 0645. You will report to the dining area for breakfast at 0700. After breakfast, you will be allocated a watch, beginning with the Forenoon watch at 0800."

"What's a watch?" Kaitlin asked.

"All will be revealed on the 'morrow – for now, everybody under the age of fourteen: BED!"

There was a chorus of complaining and Kaitlin opened her mouth to say something but Naomi clamped a hand over her sister's mouth before dragging her off to the stairway below.

..._...

The girls all gathered in the larger aft cabin once they had changed for bed.

"We've not been formally introduced – I'm Electra Haig."

"Olivia Kensington - and this is my sister, Jessica. Our step-brother, Christopher is through with the boys."

"So, considering that you're not a _Predator_ – how did you get involved with these psychos?"

"Home invasion," Olivia offered, casually. "Parents murdered. We got taken in by our neighbours who turned out to be spies for MI5 and looking after _Vengeance_ for the Government."

"A few weeks ago, I stumbled across _Vengeance_ and Naomi wanted to kill me – I pissed myself," Jessica added.

"I only found out about _Vengeance_ , last week, and since then Harper and Craig have been trying to kill me," Olivia grumbled.

Electra grinned.

"You training them?" Electra asked Harper.

"Yes – the two girls and the two boys. We were very hard on them, the first few days," Harper explained.

"They need to learn," Electra reasoned.

"Is Electra one of you?" Jessica asked.

"Definitely," Naomi said as she saw the apprehensive look on Electra's face. "She wasn't always a _Predator_ , but she's earnt her stripes, believe me."

Electra grinned.

"You've had a difficult week, from what I've seen – what with the cop-shop and all."

"I thought it was rather easy, to be honest," Olivia stated.

"Olivia – you talk _so much_ shit," Naomi stated, anger evident in her voice. "You have no fucking idea, do you?"

Olivia flinched at the expressions she was seeing and she knew that she had made a big mistake.

"Electra, show Olivia what happens when things go to shit," Kaitlin directed.

"Do I have to?" a reluctant Electra asked.

"They need to know," Kaitlin pushed reasonably and Electra sighed as she stood up.

Resignedly, Electra pulled off her pyjamas, dumping them on the bed before turning around. The two sisters were stunned by what was revealed as Electra turned to face them. Their eyes followed the scar which flowed across the ten-year-old's body, from top to bottom, and neither said a word as they took in the two knife wounds.

"I don't know what to say. . ." Olivia muttered.

"Simple – if you don't know what to say, or cannot say something useful, shut the fuck up!" Harper growled.

"Réfléchis avant de parler!" Yvette commented dryly.

The group split up; Kaitlin, Yvette, and Electra heading over to their own cabin. Olivia and Jessica slipped into their sleeping bags and kept their heads down as Naomi and Harper shared the enormous bed.

Olivia felt rotten.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Monday, October 3rd_**

 ** _Off the east coast of Benbecula  
Position:57.4415° N 7.1781° W  
Course: 165°, Speed: 8 knots, 90.3nm logged_**

 ** _0600 hours_**

The kids were _not_ happy at the early rise – _not at all!_

The adults handled it better, despite not being all that enthralled by the early hour.

"It's still dark!" Naomi exclaimed as she scrambled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Harper rolled out of bed next while Olivia and Jessica made appearances and glared up at the grinning Lynn. There was noise from other parts of the yacht as people stirred from sleep and began the new day.

..._...

"At least you didn't crash the boat!" Harper grinned, forty-five minutes later as she saw her sister sitting down on a couch in the lounge with a mug of tea.

Keira looked up at her grinning younger sister.

"Fuck off, Harps, there's a good little girl!" Keira growled.

"What did I do?" Harper whined, genuinely at a loss.

"Your sister has been on watch for the past five hours," Jasper explained. "She and Sarah split the first watches between themselves."

Harper grimaced.

"Sorry, sis."

"I just need rest and some sleep, kid, okay?"

"Yes," Harper replied meekly.

"Get your food and sit down to eat – no fucking about!" the Chief directed and the kids followed orders figuring that it wasn't a good time to test the waters, so to speak.

"You put your foot in your mouth again, 'Harps'?" Naomi grinned.

"Yes – but anybody calls me that and I _will_ hurt them," Harper growled as she sat down with her bacon, sausage, and tattie scone roll plus a mug of tea.

..._...

As 0800 approached, Natasha and Cassie appeared, grinning.

"Why do I see hell steaming over the horizon?" Electra muttered as Cassie spoke.

"Firstly, thank you, Craig, for assisting on the bridge, last night – well done!"

Craig looked very smug as he lapped up the compliment, ignoring the unfriendly glares, as Cassie continued.

"Jeremy, Harper, Christopher, and Yvette – you each have the Forenoon watch which runs from 0800 to 1200. Report to Sarah on the bridge, now."

The four kids vanished forward as Natasha took over.

"The day is split into seven time zones, or watches. The First watch begins at 2000 and ends at midnight. From midnight to 0400, we have the Middle watch – the most difficult. From 0400, we have the Morning watch which runs to 0800. As I have already mentioned, at 0800, the Forenoon watch begins and runs for four hours until midday. At midday, we begin the Afternoon watch which takes us to 1600, and the start of the Dog watches. Now, they are different from all the others as instead of being four hours in length, they are two hours each. This means that the watches are staggered over each day so you won't be on the same watch two days running. The First Dog runs from 1600 to 1800 with the Second Dog running from 1800 and bringing us back around to 2000 and the . . . Kaitlin?"

"The First watch."

"Well, done, girl! Now – we are all separated into two watches – Port and Starboard. The Port watch consists of myself, Cassie, Kaitlin, Harper, Yvette, Lynn, Christopher, Jeremy, and Sarah. The Starboard Watch will be: Cameron, Keira, David, Naomi, Craig, Electra, Jasper, Olivia, and Jessica. At your allocated time, you will report for duty, here, where you will be given your duties. When you are not on duty, you will be sleeping, eating, or training – understood?"

"So much for resting. . ." Kaitlin mused.

"We are at war, Kaitlin – we are safe out here and we have a lot of work to do. Keeping busy is important," Cameron said sharply.

"The remainder of Port Watch – we have the decks to walk to ensure nothing has been damaged during the night. You will also learn the layout of this vessel. We carry limited armament at this time – the main armament won't be fitted for several weeks – but we still need to ensure that we are safe."

"Starboard watch," Cameron directed. "Report to the Upper deck where we will begin with some training."

"Move!" the Chief called out.


	32. Rigour and Belle

**_Monday, October 3rd, 2016_**

 ** _South of Benbecula  
Position:56.6697° N 7.3429° W  
Course: 176°, Speed: 12 knots, 139.7nm logged_**

 ** _1202 hours_**

The watches had just changed.

Electra, Craig, Olivia, and Naomi had reported to the bridge just a few minutes previously, relieving their friends who were headed off for a brief break before lunch at 1300 hours. Keira had the watch and she was taking over from Sarah. Once the watch had been handed over, Keira turned to the four kids.

"You will follow every order that I give. You fuck around on my bridge and I will throw you overboard – no fucking shit!"

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Craig offered and the others repeated the response.

"I don't mind a little fun, just remember, we have a vessel to keep safe along with everybody aboard."

..._...

The kids settled into their four-hour watch, Keira explaining the radar and the plot – the moving chart which showed their exact position and course – as well as the engine controls and wheel.

"I assume that you've had a fun few weeks?" Naomi said to Electra. "Happy Birthday, by the way – sorry its late."

"Thanks – I never thought I'd make it into double figures! As for a fun few weeks; not really – I got myself into trouble more than once. You heard about my Dad?" Electra replied.

"Yes – I'm glad he regained consciousness – that must have been brilliant."

"It was."

"So, what would a goody-goody like you do to get into trouble?" Naomi queried with genuine curiosity.

"Well, it's a long story but I think we have time," Electra said. "I met a new vigilante in jolly old London."

"You did!" Craig exclaimed.

"She was called, Belle."

"So, how did you meet?" Craig asked, intrigued.

"We kind of ran into one another."

* * *

 ** _Friday, September 16th, 2016_**

 ** _London_**

Electra was getting restless.

She wanted to be out there, doing some good. Her time spent with _Fusion_ and _Vengeance_ had shown her what she wanted for her future. Stephanie had given her a choice: she could return to as normal a life as possible, or she could use her skills to help others, much as the other _Predators_ were doing. The _Vengeance Predators_ were getting the best of both worlds; they enjoyed family time and although they had not seen as much action as the _Fusion Predators_ , _Vengeance_ was still active. The breakout of Stephanie's brother had shown Electra what she could do and that she could be a _Predator_ – something she had yearned for, ever since she had first come across the young Stephanie Walker.

Electra knew that her grandfather would not agree – not a chance in hell! Electra had retained her slimline combat suit – 'just in case' – and she had a selection of weapons, too. She was living with her grandfather in his flat in Battersea. It was close to where her father was in hospital and very well located for what the youngster had in mind. Her brother was off at boarding school, so he would not be a problem. Her grandfather worked nights quite a lot so that just made things so much easier. He would also text her to say that he was on his way home, too.

That Friday evening, Electra gathered up her equipment and she headed out into London. It was slowly getting dark; the nights were closing in as autumn edged over the horizon – it was also getting colder. The youngster caught the Tube to Elephant & Castle – she had deemed it a good place to test out her plan. Once out of the Tube station, she found a dark passageway where she quickly pulled off her outer clothing to reveal the combat suit before pulling on a set of black joggers and a matching black, hooded top. She pulled on her mask and then secured the utility belt around her slim waist. She pulled on her gloves then checked her pistol, knife, and spare magazines.

Within minutes, Electra had become Rigour – London Town's newest vigilante.

..._...

Rigour kept to the shadows, ignoring those who were openly enjoying their evening without causing any trouble.

She kept her eyes and ears open for anything untoward. Most ignored the young girl – one or two made a snide comment but she was otherwise left to her own devices. As she strolled along Penrose Street, she passed some flats where she found her first call to arms, so to speak. She could hear arguing – male voices mainly but there was another, weaker voice being drowned out by the men. Rigour knew that she had to be careful – she was but nine-years-old, and if she wanted to make it the two weeks to her tenth birthday, she would have to be careful – she knew full well that if she got herself killed, Stephanie would kill her . . . again!

Rigour remained in the shadows, moving towards the arguing. She passed under a raised section of flats and into a grassed area. Over to the right, there was a tree and under the tree were four people – two men, and two women. One of the women appeared to be the point of attention – she was pinned to the tree and one of the men was running his hands over her body while the other man teased the woman by pulling open her blouse and exposing her bra. The woman was complaining bitterly about her treatment but she was being ignored and the other woman, she was encouraging the men. It took almost a full minute for Rigour to move closer without attracting any attention.

By that time, the woman had lost part of her dignity as her blouse had been torn open and her bra had been ripped open exposing her breasts to anybody who wanted to see them. The other woman took great joy in slapping the exposed breasts eliciting a yell of pain. There was laughter as the men moved to the next level and the woman was dragged to the ground and her jeans were yanked down her long legs.

"If I have to shoot you, I will," Rigour growled as she secured the suppressor to the muzzle of her pistol. "But where's the fun in that. . ."

The men turned towards the electronically enhanced voice and they found themselves facing somebody very short which made them laugh and somebody who showed no skin which just unnerved them.

..._...

As the men took in the pistol, the grins and smiles faded and turned into wary expressions, but only for a moment until they saw the pistol returned to its holster.

The expressions turned questioning before the grins and smiles returned. They no longer felt threatened by the little over four-foot personage before them and for a moment, they considered returning to their almost naked woman who was huddling on the ground.

"No, you don't, bastards!" Rigour growled as she went on the attack.

The first man went down hard as a boot struck him in the side of the head. Where Rigour lacked in strength, she sure made up with her speed and agility. The men were amazed at how fast their attacker moved. They both tried to punch the aggressor but she moved too fast for them, getting in some very painful strikes of her own. The woman tried to intervene only to receive a fist to her nose which exploded in a cloud of blood. A couple of amazing flips later, the first of the men went down permanently, losing consciousness as his head struck the tree and he slumped to the ground.

The other man paused and he raised his hands in surrender. Rigour drew her pistol again and advanced on the man who was breathing heavily.

"Please – no . . . I have kids."

"Then I pity them," Rigour growled as she reversed the pistol and took the butt across the man's forehead, knocking him senseless.

Rigour heard shouts and she heard a siren – she bolted across the grassed area, holstering her pistol as she ran.

..._...

Rigour ran for quite a distance before she stopped for a few minutes to catch her breath.

She had hoped to rest for a little longer but she saw a police car a dozen yards away, its blue lights flashing as it drove slowly down the street. She bolted, heading north. . .

 _**** WHAM ****_

It was like Rigour had walked into a wall. She fell backwards onto the ground and she yelled out in pain at the unexpected collision. Her yell was matched by another as somebody else crashed to the ground a foot away from her.

"Bloody hell!" came a hoarse-sounding voice.

Rigour focussed on the other person – they must have both collided with each other as they had come around the very same corner from different directions. Surprisingly, the other person wore a costume and Rigour grinned behind her mask – she recognised a vigilante costume when she saw one; she had seen enough of them.

The predominant colour was a dull yellow, the rest was black. From the curves and obvious bust, the other person was a female – a young girl, possibly, from the size of her frame – maybe thirteen, or so. She wore a figure-hugging suit, much like a wetsuit which covered her body from neck to ankle. She wore sand-coloured desert boots on her feet and yellow kid gloves on her hands. Over the suit, she wore a knee-length, black and yellow coat which hung open. A utility belt was visible around her waist with various accoutrements. Under the belt was what appeared to be a short kilt which came part way down the thighs and was mainly yellow. Her identity was protected by what appeared to be a gold-coloured mask from a masquerade ball. And she wore a dark brown wig of hair which hung down her back.

As for weapons, none were readily visible but they had to be there.

..._...

Rigour could see obvious surprise in the face before her as she herself was checked out.

Then she realised that her hood had slipped to reveal her mask. She saw apprehension and a hint of fear in the other vigilante. Rigour was glad that her own mask covered her face completely as her own emotions were hidden.

"Who are you?" Rigour asked.

"Who are you?" the girl asked in a hoarse tone.

"I'm Rigour – you?"

"Belle."

"Vigilante?"

"I'm not out here for my bloody health!" Belle retorted.

"Touché!" Rigour responded.

"Hello, Belle," Rigour said, extending her hand.

Belle hesitated but she held out her hand and Rigour took it, shaking it firmly. Both braced up as their corner became bathed in blue lighting.

Then without another word both fled the scene.

..._...

That first night, Electra made it back to the flat and her bed, literally minutes before her grandfather walked through the front door.

"You okay?" Patrick Haig asked his niece as she lay in her bed.

"Yeah – boring evening."

"Boring's good."

"Night, Grandpa."

"Night, Electra."

It had been a good night, Electra thought as she closed her eyes.

* * *

 ** _Three days later  
Monday, September 19th_**

Electra had gone out the next three evenings, looking for the elusive yellow vigilante.

But, it wasn't until the Monday evening that their paths kind of crossed again. Only, it wasn't a simple collision and Rigour almost found out if her combat suit really was bulletproof. That night, she was in the backend of Lambeth where the streets were seeped in darkness punctured by the seemingly random scattering of street lights. Lambeth had the dubious pleasure of being the top-rated borough for homicides in London during the first decade and a half of the 21st century. Knife crime had also gone through the room making Lambeth a dangerous place after dark.

Rigour had done her homework, naturally, and was targeting the more dangerous boroughs – she figured that Belle might be doing the same thing.

* * *

Belle was running hard.

Things had not been going all that well but she had a target in her sights and she was _not_ letting it get away. She pounded down Borough Road, ignoring the glances that she received as her wig and coat streamed out behind her. The reason for the young vigilante's hot and fast pursuit? She had witnessed a rape with robbery thrown in. The man was running as fast as he could – he was genuinely scared as Belle had already taken a Tonfa across his stomach and she had promised the rapist cum thief much, much, more. The man raced towards St George's Circus, yelling into his mobile phone as he went. He was desperately calling for help from his fellow gang members . . . and they were responding.

However, Belle never appreciated what the main was doing until it was far too late . . . far . . . too . . . late.

..._...

At St George's Circus, the man ran into two women enjoying a night out and he fell against some secured bicycles, rolling on the ground.

The fall allowed Belle to close the gap considerably as the man scrambled back to his feet, ignoring the women who were yelling obscenities after the retreating man as he ran towards London Road. There was the squeal of rubber as a white Mercedes van narrowly avoided squishing the man who bolted across the street with very little apparent thought for his own safety. He vanished between two buildings and Belle continued the chase as she bolted across the street during a brief lull in the traffic.

She found herself at a tall grey-painted steel gate which the man had just climbed. Belle leapt up the gate and scurried over it like it was not the eight-foot obstacle to entry which it was intended to be.

* * *

Bingo!

Rigour was pleased to see Belle running across the road, up ahead, and vanishing between two buildings. Rigour ran hard to the same point but she skidded to a halt and took cover behind a tree as a car skidded to a halt and four men dived out and they all ran in the same direction which Belle had taken. It did not bode well as Rigour closed on what she thought might be a passageway but instead, she discovered it to be the entrance to the London Road Depot of the London Underground, or more specifically the Bakerloo Line.

Rigour struggled a bit with the gate but she scrambled over it in time to see Belle pursuing a man down a long, inclined, ramp at the base of which were a dozen train tracks, six on each side of the ramp, many of which were occupied by long, seven-car, Bakerloo Line Tube train sets. The nearest train was to the left of the ramp which stopped about midway down the train. The extra men ran down the ramp and they yelled at Belle who stopped dead and she turned to face them, her face displaying shock at their unwelcome arrival.

"Oy!" came a yell and a security guard came lumbering towards them from a building down to the left and between the ramp and the train.

One of the men ran at him, kicking him to the ground and savagely kicking him in the face until the man passed out – or died, Rigour could not tell. The doors to the nearest train were open and a four-person cleaning crew were onboard working from end to end. They turned as they heard the yelling and they quickly vacated the train and ran for the ramp as two men seized hold of Belle and they threw her inside the third car from the front.

Rigour ran down the ramp startling one of the men as she kicked him to the ground and punched him in the face.

..._...

Belle landed on the hard steel-ribbed floor and she felt a sharp pain in her bottom from the impact.

She narrowly avoided cracking her head on the opposite doors of the car as she scrambled back to her feet, a Tonfa in each hand, the longer section of the weapons extending up her lower arms. She was attacked by the men who had thrown her into the car. They threw punches at her which she expertly dodged, or battered to one side with her Tonfas. The men were typical men, believing themselves superior to a 'girl', especially one in a seemingly ludicrous costume. However, the 'girl' may have been scared by the unexpected encounter, but she was also overflowing with courage and the desire to put down bullies, rapists, murderers, thieves – basically anybody who went against her ideals for how she thought the country should operate.

Belle grinned openly when one of the men fell backwards, his face bruised and bloody from a strike by her right Tonfa. The sight of his pal, bloodied and beaten, was enough to enrage the other man and wipe the grin off his face as he punched harder and faster, turning the fight from something he was enjoying to something more serious and very nasty. He caught Belle with a kick which sent her reeling down the car where she dropped a Tonfa and grabbed a vertical pole for support just as a third man fell through the open doors, followed by Rigour who punched him in the side of the head.

The man stayed down as Rigour leapt up and swung around another vertical pole, driving both of her booted feet into the back of Belle's attacker.

..._...

Belle screamed as the man coming towards her suddenly fell forwards and landed on top of her.

She struggled to fight her way out from under the heavy and very angry man. He was yelling obscenities at her and she suddenly realised that her life was very much at risk. She saw a fleeting movement behind the man and then noticed the vigilante from the other night – Rigour. She was fighting another man over near the set of doors Belle had entered by. She felt relief that she seemed to have an ally and somebody who was fighting on her side.

Belle smashed her fist into the man's face, breaking his nose. The livid male smirked through the bloody mess and he made to headbutt the squirming girl but she moved at the last second and his head smacked into the floor, stunning the man long enough for Belle to scramble out of harm's way. For good measure, she smashed her remaining Tonfa into the man's head ensuring that he would not get back up for a while and when he did, he would have one hell of a headache.

Belle jumped over the man and ran towards where Rigour was bouncing off the walls and ceiling as she attacked two men simultaneously.

..._...

Rigour saw Belle running towards her and she was very glad that the girl was alive and apparently uninjured.

The inside of the double-glazed window smashed as Rigour kicked an already wounded man backwards and his head collided with the glazing. The final man was kicked backwards by both girls and he fell to the floor banging his head on the steel-ribbed flooring and joining his friends in unconsciousness. After a brief check to ensure that there were no more attackers, the two girls turned to look at each other.

"Where's the dick I was chasing in the first place?" Belle demanded.

"He's outside, unconscious," Rigour advised in her electronically enhanced voice.

"Cool!"

The two vigilantes stepped out of the car and they saw the man kneeling on the ground, his hands on his head. Belle frowned for a moment but then she yelled out as she was grabbed by the arm and thrust against a wall while Rigour's world turned upside down and she crashed to the concrete beneath her feet.

Rigour lay on the ground, staring up into the gaping barrel of a .40-calibre Glock 22 Gen4 pistol.

..._...

"Give me a reason to shoot you – or better yet, give me a reason _not_ to shoot you."

The voice was serious and brooked no argument. Rigour held both hands out, palms up, beside her head, ignoring her weapons.

"No!" came Belle's hoarse voice.

"I'll deal with _you_ , later!"

Belle looked mad at the put down but she took it for a moment before trying again.

"She's a friend."

"What!"

"We met a few days ago . . . she's called Rigour."

"Why should I trust you . . . Rigour?"

Rigour took a stab in the dark as she studied the woman behind the pistol.

"You heard of a _Predator_?"

The expression told Rigour that, yes, the woman _had_ heard the name. The pistol moved away and the woman holstered it.

" _Vengeance_."

It was more of a statement than a question.

"You'd better get up, _Vengeance_ – there are many who think you should all be in prison . . . only I am not one of them."

Rigour got back to her feet and looked over at Belle who just shook her head.

"Go! The Police will be here within minutes – I need to get 'Belle', here, to safety."

Rigour did not need telling twice – she ran.

* * *

 ** _The Haig Flat  
Battersea_**

Electra was about to dive into a shower when her Grandpa returned.

Instead, she quickly pulled on some clean pyjamas and dived into her bed.

"Hi, sweetie," Patrick Haig said with a smile.

"Hi, Grandpa. You have a good day?"

"It was okay – successful in part."

Patrick looked around his granddaughter's bedroom – it was a tip! Clothes and books were everywhere – Electra liked to read. At times, the girl was quite slovenly, but then she was barely ten. However, he was a policeman and his eyes were always sharp, despite his years.

"Is that blood?"

Patrick knelt down and he pulled a hooded top out from under the bed, followed by Electra's combat suit.

"Maybe. . ."

"Goddammit, Electra!"

Electra was struggling with what to say next – she was busted, that was obvious, but in her own mind, she had not really been doing anything wrong.

"Electra . . . I know what you are. To be honest, I hate what you are but I know you had no choice. I hate what they did to you. I hate what they did to my little granddaughter, my little Electra. I know what you can do and I have a fair idea what you are capable of – but that is _not_ what you are now. You have a chance at being a normal little girl, Electra. You are not even ten-years-old."

Electra considered those points before she responded.

"When I was a Yellow, I had a very short lifespan ahead of me. If I had not met Stephanie and if she had not taken me under her wing, I would have received a bullet in the head, somewhere around my eighth birthday. Thanks to that girl, I am still alive. Yes, during my darkest moments, I have cursed my skills and the things which I have both done and witnessed. But I am thankful that I am still living and I am thankful that I could see my family again. I will always owe Stephanie a debt that I doubt I will ever be able to repay.

"Stephanie and Mindy both gave me a choice about how I handled my life. They have not pushed me down either route and I thank them for that. I want to be a normal little girl but I feel that I can do so much more with my life. You see me as your little girl . . . but I'm not a little girl, not anymore. You're right, they did take my childhood away, but I'm not so sure that was such a bad thing: I have a gift – Stephanie gave me a gift – a gift that I can't escape, no matter how hard I try. If I ignore that gift then everything I endured, everything I suffered . . . it would have been for naught. Each morning, I see the scar that crosses my body, and I am reminded of everything that led up to Abigail slashing me. I want that suffering to mean something."

Patrick was impressed by his granddaughter's maturity, even at the tender age of nine. He listened to her mini speech and he took in her words.

"Well reasoned," he admitted. "Go to sleep . . . and please, no more Rigour."

"You know I need the outlet, don't you, Grandpa?"

"I do – Mindy said as much. You can't keep going out alone to fight. Get some sleep."

"Night, Grandpa."

* * *

 ** _Five days later  
Saturday, September 24th_**

Electra was struggling with her emotions.

She was struggling with who she thought she wanted to be.

She was struggling with not knowing if her friends were safe.

 _Vengeance_ had left Edinburgh and they had gone somewhere safe – she had no idea where. Any thoughts of hunting for that vigilante, Belle, had left her mind – she did not want to openly disobey her Grandpa – however, while Belle had some good fighting skills, she really had no idea how to be a vigilante. Electra had deduced that if Rigour had not turned up the other night, then there was a very high chance that Belle would have, at best, have been badly hurt . . . or at worst, killed. Therefore, Electra had decided that Bell needed help. Her grandfather had told her, 'You can't keep going out alone to fight' – so she wasn't. Electra found herself out on the streets of London, yet again. Only she was not looking for trouble or people who needed their backsides kicked, she was out looking for Belle and Electra intended to find the wayward vigilante before the older girl got herself killed. She was armed, naturally – it was only prudent – but she would not actively go out of her way to engage a threat.

Electra was determined to find out more about the mysterious vigilante she knew as 'Belle'.

..._...

For a change, Belle found Rigour first.

"You looking for me?" came the hoarse voice out of the darkness.

Rigour spun around to find Belle emerging from the shadows.

"Hi," Rigour said.

"Hi, yourself."

"You, okay?"

"Thanks for the other night."

"You looked like you needed help."

"I did, didn't I."

"You need to keep a watch on your surroundings at all times," Rigour advised.

"You're right on that one . . . can you teach me?"

"You think I can?"

"You're a _Predator_ – you're something special. You have training that I could never have."

"Training that you would never want," Rigour said darkly.

"I have to go – maybe another night?" Belle said.

"Another night."

Rigour watched Belle go for a moment, before heading in the opposite direction and then doubling back to follow the other vigilante.

..._...

Belle was obviously very careful.

She took four different trains when she could have taken but one. She also changed her appearance, _twice_ , before finally arriving at Kensington Palace dressed like a teenager but with her features well hidden beneath a hooded top. She appeared to have no apparent trouble finding her way inside the Palace grounds which gave Rigour an idea as to the vigilante's true identity.

Rigour headed home to do some research.

* * *

 ** _Saturday, October 1st_**

Electra was awoken by the insistent beeping and vibrating of her mobile phone.

Her eyes opened grudgingly and they focussed on the offending device. She saw the name and she groaned as she swiped the green symbol on the screen.

"What is it, Stephanie?"

 _"Happy Birthday, 'lectra!"_ Stephanie yelled.

 _"Happy Birthday, Electra!"_ came another voice.

"Abigail?"

Electra sat up in bed and she pressed the button to turn the phone call into a video chat. She saw her two friends sitting on a bed, smiling and waving.

"Hi, guys – it's early!"

 _"We wanted to get our congratulations in early,"_ Stephanie explained.

 _"How does it feel, being ten?"_ Abigail asked.

"Now that you mention it . . . it feels weird," Electra admitted.

 _"Welcome to the double-digit-club!"_ Stephanie laughed.

Electra saw Abigail's face pale.

"What's up, Abigail?" Electra asked but then she saw where Abigail's eyes were focussed and she looked down.

Her pyjama top was open and the top of her scar was readily visible. Electra quickly covered it up and Abigail grimaced.

"Sorry," Electra said.

 _"Don't be,"_ Abigail replied with a weak smile. _"I'm still getting used to all this 'love thy enemy' crap!"_

 _"You love me?"_ Stephanie asked facetiously.

 _"You think_ way _too much of yourself,"_ Abigail grinned.

"She does, doesn't she?" Electra laughed.

 _"Bitches!"_ Stephanie growled.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

They both found each other and they sat down by the River Thames near to the Tower of London.

"Rapists and those who hurt children should end their lives in there," Belle said forcefully as she looked up at the towering edifice and symbol of London's historical form of justice.

"Yeah – they deserve nothing better than a long walk to the block followed by the thud of the axe," Rigour agreed and she relished the sight in her mind's eye of some poor bastard being led to the wooden block on Tower Green, his hands bound behind him while the executioner waited, the curved axe blade shining in readiness to end the criminal's life in a swift and efficient manner. "How did you know that I was a _Predator_?"

"My . . . well, that woman from the other day – she knew about you . . . well, about _Predators_ and she explained what they were – I'm sorry, it sounds really bad."

"It was – thanks."

Before they could say anything else, a bright light shone in their direction.

"Oy! What'ya doing down there?"

..._...

Rigour grabbed hold of Belle's gloved hand and dragged her along the dried-out bank of the River Thames, heading west.

They ran hard for several minutes before they turned away from the river and headed for Waterloo Station. Both girls were worn out by the running and they both collapsed to the ground in a dark passageway behind the station. After several more minutes of saying nothing but breathing heavily, they both calmed down enough to speak.

"That was fun," Rigour stated.

"Invigorating!" Belle agreed.

They made their way back towards the meandering River Thames where they snuck aboard a late-night river bus and headed south from Westminster towards Battersea.

"I love the river at night," Belle said.

"It's calming and relaxing. I often like to stand on the bridges and watch the water," Rigour added.

Almost forty minutes later, they left the river bus at Battersea and Belle followed Rigour before they stopped outside a small block of upmarket flats. Rigour turned to Belle.

"This is where I live. Look . . . I . . . I'm worried that you're not cut out for being a vigilante. . ."

Rigour held up her gauntleted hand as Belle made to protest.

". . .I know who you are, Belle, who you really are under that mask and costume. If you really want to be a vigilante then I can help you reach your full potential much as someone else did for me."

Rigour could see the worried look in Belle's eyes.

"I'm not out to hurt you and believe me, I can keep a secret – and yours is a big one!" Rigour assured the older girl. "Come in – my Grandpa isn't due back for an hour or so."

..._...

"Nice bedroom," Belle said as she looked around the bedroom which was way smaller than anything that she was used to.

"Not quite like they have at Kensington Palace, eh, Your Royal Highness."

Belle's shoulders slumped. She considered fighting it but she knew that she had been rumbled and that she would catch hell for it from Ginny when she found out – and find out she would, it was just a matter of when.

"Please don't feel bad – err, Your Royal Highness."

"Call me Mary, please – none of that title nonsense; at least in private."

"Okay, Mary – I'm Electra."

"Good to. . ."

"Shit!" Rigour exclaimed as the front door slammed. "He's back early. Get down behind the bed."

There was no time to move as her bedroom door was thrown open and her Grandpa walked in – he did _not_ look happy!

..._...

"What did I say?" Patrick Haig roared.

Electra pulled off her mask and she stared down at the floor, unable to meet her Grandpa's eyes.

"You picked a sorry time for this, girl – at least you have your armour; your friends are in trouble and I have a pair of helicopters ready to take us north."

Before Electra could comment, there was a noise from the corner of the room.

"You might as well come out," the Commander directed.

Belle stood up from behind the bed and she stepped forwards. She looked forlornly over at Electra who made a fast decision and she turned to Belle.

"You can trust my Grandpa – he's SO15."

Belle hesitantly reached up to remove her mask and wig.

"Bloody hell!" the Special Branch commander breathed as he saw the face before him.

Almost simultaneously, there was a sound from the hallway and a person appeared in the bedroom doorway. The person stepped into the room, a pistol held in her hands. She took one look at the scene and she groaned as she pointed the pistol at the ground.

"You, my girl, are going to be the death of me," the woman said in an exasperated tone.

* * *

 ** _Monday, October 3rd, 2016_**

 ** _Hull 67_**

"You know who Belle is, don't you?" Craig pushed.

Electra grinned fiendishly.

"Yes, I do.

"You're not going to tell us, are you?" Olivia asked rhetorically.

"Nope!"


	33. The Royal Yacht

**_Monday, October 3rd, 2016_**

 ** _About 30nm north of Londonderry, Northern Ireland  
Position: 55.5248° N 7.2053° W  
Course: 099°, Speed: 14 knots, 208.1nm logged_**

 ** _1706 hours_**

Electra had been bullied and verbally abused ever since the watch had finished.

Olivia was trying every feminine trick that she knew, and then some, to get the desired information out of the ten-year-old, however, said ten-year-old was refusing to cooperate.

"You're _such_ a bitch, Electra!" Naomi growled. "You remind of someone."

"I was taught by the second biggest bitch out there," Electra replied happily.

"Who's the first?" Christopher asked.

"That, would be Mindy," Electra stated to general laughter.

Just a few minutes previously, the yacht had altered course to the east and headed towards Scotland.

"Where are we going?" the ever-inquisitive Jessica had asked.

"Campbeltown – we're picking up a pair of passengers," Cassie had replied cryptically. "Don't ask any more questions as I know nothing more."

Olivia had stared at Electra.

"You know something," she stated.

"Maybe I do," Electra teased with a twinkle in her eye. "Maybe I don't."

..._...

The heckling of Electra only ceased during the evening meal when Cassie lost her temper with Olivia and Kaitlin who were encouraging and demonstrating obscene behaviour with the hotdogs which all were supposed to have been consuming.

"Olivia!" Cassie cautioned. "You may be engaging in _Predator_ training and being trained by _Predators_ , but that _does not_ mean that you have to behave in the same depraved manner that _they_ choose to!"

That proclamation caused a wild depraved yell to be emitted by all the _Predators_ present with Craig's yell being the loudest, closely followed in volume by Harper's. Olivia, Jessica, Christopher, and Jeremy just laughed encouragingly.

"Damn _Predators_!" Cassie growled as she stalked off the deck. "A bunch of depraved little. . ."

"That's bad, right?" Kaitlin asked.

"Yeah," Craig replied.

"Cool!"

* * *

 ** _Monday, October 3rd, 2016_**

 ** _NATO Refuelling Pier, Campbeltown  
Position: 55.4172° N 5.5711° W  
Alongside, 195.7nm logged_**

 ** _2332 hours_**

It was almost totally dark as the mega-yacht nudged alongside the moorings.

There was a flurry of activity on the dock as she was secured alongside by Royal Navy seamen as fuelling hoses were passed aboard to allow dozens of gallons of marine diesel to thunder into the capacious tanks of the mega-yacht for the greedy engines to feed on. A small van unloaded almost a ton of supplies – mainly fresh food – and various other items which were ferried up the gangway. At the far end of the pier, where it touched the land, the entrance to the pier was guarded by six, heavily armed Royal Marines Commandoes who blended into the darkness.

A car pulled up beside them and recognition signals were exchanged before two people were escorted down the length of the 350-yard pier on foot. One was obviously an adult whilst the other was slightly shorter. Each carried a small backpack slung over one shoulder. As they approached the dimly lit yacht, the shorter of the pair appeared to be getting very excited. At the gangway, they were met by two adults and a youngster.

After brief introductions were exchanged, the extra passengers were led into the lounge where just about everybody was gathered.

..._...

Electra smiled happily as she led her friend into the lounge.

The adult who followed behind, stepped forward and she began to introduce the young girl with her.

"May I introduce, Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of. . ."

"Oh, can it, Ginny!"

Ginny threw up her arms in despair.

"Hi, I'm all that which Ginny spouted – but I prefer just Mary. But you can call me 'H' if you want – less of a mouthful – or . . . considering Electra has already figured it out . . . Belle."

There was a collective intake of breath from all present.

"We would never have guessed," Olivia pointed out, throwing Electra a dirty look.

"You never told them?" Mary asked Electra who simply shook her head. "Thanks."

"Mary," Electra said. "Please meet, _Vengeance_."

Mary smiled enormously.

"You guys are brilliant – not in the same league as Hit Girl, but then nobody is – I'm a big fan of what you do and I think that what you do is amazing. I've dreamt of becoming a vigilante – but as Electra found out, I suck at it!"

"You got that right!" Electra muttered.

"I think it . . . oh, wow . . . I can't believe I'm actually meeting the real _Vengeance_!"

"You finished?" Electra demanded. "Or can I introduce everyone?"

"Sorry. . ."

"You've already met Natasha and Cameron – they're Crimson and Drift, by the way. Then there's Cassie and Keira – Nemesis and our pilot, Scorpion. Craig – Stripe, with his father, David, known as Chief. Harper, Naomi, Katlin, and Yvette – Polaris, Prowl, Glide, and La Terreaur – including Craig, they're all _Predators_."

"French?"

"Oui, I live en Paris," Yvette explained quickly.

"Okay."

"Jasper and Lynn are MI5 and are known as Sleuth and Doc. Then we have Olivia – Ajax, Jessica – Overrun, Jeremy – Harrier, and Christopher – Forager. They are all vigilantes in training and they suck just as bad as you. Finally, we have Sarah – Maia; she is our Captain for the cruise and a serving Royal Navy officer."

Electra appeared quite out of breath by the time she had finished.

"Your Highness – I'd have worn my blues had I known you were coming!" Sarah grinned.

"Hello, all of you," Mary said. "Please meet, Ginny. She is my Personal Protection Officer and my mentor."

"Hello. While we're being informal, let me just say that Mary is a nutty teenager who has no idea what she's getting herself into," Ginny put in.

"Thanks, Ginny!" Mary grimaced.

..._...

While the adults moved up a deck to chat privately amongst themselves, the kids all descended on Mary who giggled as she found herself being pushed into a couch while everybody gathered around her – she was a Princess and therefore a curiosity.

The Princess was loving all the attention and above all, she was loving being with _Vengeance_. Meeting Rigour had been the best thing ever – despite the almost getting killed part! However, her visit was not for fun; she had been dispatched by her father on a fact-finding expedition as an envoy to hear _Vengeance's_ side of the story. Her father, the Prince, had met with Electra's grandfather the day after Electra and he had vanished off to York. The Prince had taken a great personal interest in _Vengeance_ , ever since its inception, and he had been appalled to hear of its treatment at the hands of the Government. The Prince believed in the law – _Vengeance_ was innocent until _proven_ guilty.

He had been equally appalled by his daughter's seemingly open attempts at getting herself killed. However, he was a man of reality and he knew when his daughter was edging beyond his control – she was a teenager enduring a difficult and ordered upbringing. Instead, he decided to use her and if possible get her trained by professionals before she _did_ manage to get herself killed. On that note, he had written a brief letter to 'The Commander of _Vengeance_ ' advising them that he was placing his only daughter into their care. He went on to say that he expected them to train her in weaponry and close combat. He also expected them to maintain a stern discipline over the girl and as such, he authorised them to treat her just like they would any other member of _Vengeance_ and to ignore her lineage. For Cameron and Natasha that had come as a surprise when the letter had been hand-delivered by Ginny who had been appraised of the letter's content and she was secretly pleased to finally be able to see her mentee being properly controlled.

Finally!

..._...

On the question of accommodation, Electra had had the final word.

"Mary is kipping with Kaitlin, Yvette, and me!"

Ginny just shrugged – she would share a cabin with Sarah in the bow as far away from the girls as possible. However, she gave her charge a stern talking to.

"Mary – no Princess nonsense; you do as you are told. Electra, don't accept any crap from her, understood?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Electra replied as Mary just scowled and the thirteen-year-old found herself being dragged off to her sleeping quarters by Kaitlin and Yvette.

"Night!" Mary called out as she went.

"They should have fun!" Ginny commented.

..._...

It was a little after one in the morning when Hull 67 cast off her moorings and she headed out to sea.

She had a 118-nautical mile voyage ahead of her – about a ten-hour cruise, however, they needed to arrive closer to night-time, so they would spend a day at sea before docking in Douglas, Isle of Man, at around six in the evening. The only issue as they headed out into the Irish Sea was a certain cabin with an eight-year-old _Predator_ , two ten-year-old _Predators_ , and a thirteen-year-old Princess, all of whom were giggling insanely until they were quickly put down by Keira.

Silence finally reigned aboard Hull 67.

* * *

 ** _Tuesday, October 4th, 2016_**

 ** _About 4nm south of Calf of Man, Isle of Man  
Position: 54.0090° N 4.8150° W  
At anchor, 307.4nm logged_**

 ** _1144 hours_**

Princess Mary swore under her breath and she caught the disapproving look on her protector's face.

"I'm not a Princess, right now, am I?" she groused – that letter from her father had rankled somewhat when she had been shown it by Natasha over breakfast – she had always had the protection of being a Princess to ensure that she was treated well and had been known to bring on a 'high and mighty' outlook when required.

"You're hesitating!" Electra called out as she kicked Mary's hands out from under her and the older girl fell into a very un-princess-like pose.

Mary would not admit it, openly at least, but she was having the time of her life – for once, she was being treated like a normal teenager and not like somebody special. That morning, she had been awoken by Kaitlin all but yanking her out of her sleeping bag. Mary had enjoyed the rough handling and she had shoved Kaitlin quite hard to get her away from her – Kaitlin had just laughed. After seeing what the others wore, Mary had pulled on a sports bra, boy shorts, a light purple T-shirt and a pair of matching shorts, plus a pair of dark grey joggers. On her feet, she wore a pair of white trainers and trainer socks. Her long hair was tied back in a doubled up, pony tail.

After breakfast, Mary had found herself allocated to the Starboard watch – Ginny was in the Port watch. As such, Mary found herself standing between Olivia and Jessica while Naomi, Electra, and Craig proceeded to push them to the limit.

..._...

Mary, Olivia, and Jessica were very quickly wishing that the watch would come to an early end and hence their training session.

Electra was pushing Mary hard – she had to, to find out what she could really do. The teenager's skills were good but the girl had a habit of letting her guard down at the most inopportune moments.

"Stop being so damn lazy!" Electra ordered as Mary was kicked to the deck once again to land beside a groaning Jessica.

Olivia soon followed as Craig put her down with a swift kick to her chest.

"None of you are putting in _any_ effort!" Craig almost yelled at the three trainees. "I thought you were skilled, Mary."

"I am!"

"Well, fucking show it then!"

Mary felt humiliated – something she very rarely felt and nobody _ever_ swore at her. The boy was still twelve and that grated, as did being ordered around by the ten-year-old Electra and the nine-year-old Naomi. Mary knew that she had no choice but to endure the battering humiliation if she wanted to learn something and not let her father down.

Even worse, Ginny appeared to be enjoying Mary's fall from grace!

..._...

After a lunch, where a thoroughly disgruntled Mary had concentrated on her food, the Princess found herself on the bridge with Keira, Jessica, and Olivia.

"Thought you'd all like a break from the _Predators_ ," Keira said kindly.

The three youngsters were all pleased to be able to rest for a few hours, even though Keira kept each of them busy with chartwork. It was also the first time that Mary had been able to see the yacht properly in daylight.

"She's beautiful – I love the colour scheme."

"That she is," Keira agreed.

"How come she doesn't have a name?"

"She's brand new and we weren't intending on using her until she was ready – she's not even armed yet."

"Why are _Vengeance_ being hunted?"

"A very good question, Mary," Keira replied. "We killed a man, a couple months back. He was somebody very important – actually, it was Electra who killed him. He was a very bad person who used his organisation to commit murder, kidnap people – you name it. He was actively recruiting _Predators_ and he tried to capture several but we got them out. As far as we can tell, his death was the start of us being disavowed."

"What can we do to help?" Mary asked.

"As far as we can tell, we've done nothing wrong. There's something bigger going on and I'm worried that HMG are far too focussed on us to see the greater picture – whatever that is."

"Maybe that's the plan," Jessica cut in. "Distract the Government while somebody does something bad."

"Wow!" Olivia grinned. "We don't often hear something smart coming out of _your_ mouth."

"Thanks, sister!" Jessica scowled.

"She may have a point – a good one," Keira agreed. "We're going after a certain woman – she lives on the Isle of Man; a tax haven."

"You hope she can tell us something?"

"She's involved and she doesn't much like _Vengeance_."

"How come?"

" _Vengeance_ played a part in sinking her super-yacht, back in May."

"Oh – that could upset somebody enough to want to kill you, I suppose," Mary mused.

..._...

At four, that afternoon, the combat training began again.

Mary had had enough humiliation so she decided to show everybody what she could really do and after some goading from Craig, she went all out on him. Craig dodged back just as a very well-aimed and powerful kick almost took him off his feet. He was not surprised – he had been informed that Mary held a red belt in Taekwondo – but he had not expected such a ferocious response to his goading. However, he was pleased – if Mary could keep using her skills properly instead of easing off and being lazy, she would be a formidable opponent.

Craig could see the angry look on the teenager's face and he could see into her eyes – he could see hatred as she put everything that she had into fighting him. However, Craig was not going to let up – Mary needed to learn, just as the other newbies did. He did receive a warning glance from Naomi, however, but he ignored her as he deflected a remarkably sly punch and drove back with his own strike which took Mary off her feet - again. Very quickly, she was up off the mat and facing off against Craig, her face red with exertion and pain. There was another warning glance, this time from Electra, but Craig filed it away as he attacked again and again, pushing and pushing.

Mary pushed back but she was exhausted and no matter what she did, Craig attacked again and she was struggling to find any moves which would stop him. She did not want to capitulate but she knew that she would not have much choice. Craig was even grinning – she hated him, she wanted to destroy him . . . but how? She dug deep for her last reserves of strength and she threw herself at Craig. She rolled at the last moment, taking Craig down like a bowling ball to a bowling pin. The boy crashed to the mat, yelling out in surprise and pain, but he sorted himself out faster than Mary could and he tripped her as she tried to regain her feet.

Mary went flat on her face and she just lay there, sobbing for a moment.

"Fuck this!" Mary yelled as she jumped up and then fled the deck, tears streaming down her face.

..._...

The deck was silent as everybody just stared in surprise at the vanishing Princess.

Craig grimaced – he was concerned that he had gone too far and the disapproving looks which he was receiving from Electra and Naomi said as much. There were raised voices coming from the gangway which led below but it was not possible to understand what was being said. Nevertheless, Mary reappeared a few minutes later, looking miserable. She also looked very unhappy and she was struggling to form words as she stood before Craig and the others.

"I apologise to everybody for my behaviour. I'm here to learn, not . . . not to be a prima donna. Please don't think less of me."

"Don't worry, Mary," Cassie said. "Prima donna is just another term for _Predator_ and I have two for daughters – I'm used to it. You're only human, no matter what your lineage."

"Thank you."

Olivia grabbed Mary and pulled her into the group of girls.

"I've been there – I hated the abuse I received from them, but I now know I needed it. This isn't a game – that police station thing scared me half to death. If I can do this, then so can you."

"Thanks, Olivia."

Over by the gangway below, Ginny smiled.

..._...

It had been a roller-coaster ride, the past few days.

First, Mary had been risking her life and almost getting killed. Then she had found an ally in Rigour – yes, Ginny had felt justified in shooting Rigour to protect her principal, but she had held off. Mind you, the body armour would have protected the girl, although the bruising would have been major. Electra was an amazing young girl who had obviously been through a lot. Ginny had been briefed on the _Predator_ situation as part of her security briefings – she would have needed to watch out for them at Mary's school. Initially, she had been incensed to find Mary without her mask – she and her family had so much to lose if her face got out as that of an illegal vigilante.

There had not been much time to talk with Electra's grandfather, except for him to promise total secrecy over the activities of Mary/Belle. Apparently, Electra was difficult to keep under control, too. After Electra and Commander Haig had vanished for their emergency trip to the north of England, Ginny had escorted Mary home. Along the way, Ginny had threatened everything from house arrest to being locked up in the Tower of London. Mary knew that she was in big trouble. Only it got worse; her father was awaiting his daughter's return and the heavens quickly fell in on the young girl. Indeed, Ginny had been very lucky to keep her job. The Prince had listened to it all as Mary had poured everything out to her father from beginning to end. It had not been a fun couple of hours and Mary was in her own personal hell as she went through every time she had put her life on the line and disobeyed her father as well as Ginny.

The following day, the Prince had met up with Commander Haig and they had talked about many things, including _Vengeance_ and their wayward dependents. Commander Haig had explained all about Electra and what she had been through while the Prince had listened intently. At the end of the conversation, the Prince had asked where Electra was at that moment. The Commander had gone on to explain about the yacht and the Prince had suggested that Mary and her guardian should be sent to meet up with the yacht. Mary would become an unofficial envoy and she could learn more about what was going on as well as maybe learn how to look after herself properly, assuming that she was intending on refusing to give up being a vigilante.

After a long and private talk with her father, Mary had agreed to the terms – not that she had had much choice – only he had left out anything about her being treated like a mere commoner.

..._...

Electra was amazed at how fast things had moved.

She had thought that her own life would be forfeit, only the news of her friends needing help had overturned everything. The conversation had been short, but remarkably rewarding.

...+...

"I'm sorry," Mary tried.

"Not good enough!" Ginny growled in response.

"Your secret is safe, ma'am," Commander Haig assured the youngster. "You are just as wayward as Electra. Only, we have to go, so this conversation will have to wait."

"My friends are in trouble," Electra said quickly in explanation. " _Vengeance_ is in trouble."

"I want to help," Mary volunteered. "I can speak to my father . . . even my grandmother."

"Nothing wrong with help from high places," Electra observed.

"Good luck, Electra," Mary said meaningfully.

...+...

Mary's father, the Prince, had been able to move fast and Mary had been ordered north with all dispatch to meet them in Campbeltown.

* * *

 ** _Tuesday, October 4th, 2016_**

 ** _Douglas, Isle of Man  
Position: 54.1462° N 4.4740° W  
Alongside, 345.8nm logged_**

 ** _2007 hours_**

The operation was well underway.

A crucial component had arrived, just that afternoon, and was being unloaded in the centre of the island. The assault team had left within minutes of the yacht coming alongside. Marinette and Adrien had been waiting for them with a trio of rented Land Rover Discovery 4x4s. Elsewhere on the island, Eric and Alya were busy reconnoitring the target.

 _"Assault team, this is Akuma – target is in residence and just settling down with some coffee."_

Nemesis smiled to herself as she drove the Land Rover across the island. With her were Stripe, Ajax, Harrier, Prowl, and Polaris. Half a mile behind, Crimson, Drift, Rigour, Glide, and Overrun, followed in an identical vehicle. Just leaving the yacht was the backup team made up of Scorpion, La Terreaur, La Coccinelle, La Chat Noir, and Forager. Chief had been dropped off somewhere by Scorpion an hour previously before she had returned for the backup team. Jasper, Lynn, Sarah, Ginny, and Mary (much to her annoyance), would remain on the yacht.

The attack was timed for 21:45.

* * *

 ** _Kirk Michael  
Eastern Isle of Man_**

 ** _21:30_**

"Why am I even here?" Ajax complained as she adjusted her mask – she hated it.

"The same thought crossed _my_ mind," Polaris growled having heard Ajax bellyaching for the past hour. "If complaining was a weapon. . ."

"Bitch. . ." Ajax muttered.

"We're short on people," Nemesis explained. "You guys have been trained – kind of, so we need you with us. You'll stay on the side-lines, but if things go to hell, then you guys can always come rescue us."

"If things have gone so bad that you need us. . ." Overrun began.

"Don't say it," Prowl warned. "The attack has enough problems as it is."

"Oh, great!" Stripe growled as rain began to pelt Team One while they lay in the grass, one hundred yards to the west of the property.

One hundred yards to the north of the property, Team Two lay awaiting the go signal. They too were overjoyed to see the rain.

"This sucks!" Glide commented as she lay beside Overrun.

"Could be worse," Overrun commented.

"How?"

"No idea."

Two hundred yards down a bank, to the east of the property, the backup team lay in wait.

"At least _we_ have cover," Forager commented as they all sat beneath some trees, sheltering from the rain.

"Merde!" La Terreaur growled.

 _"All teams – Akuma – attacking in two minutes!"_

As the clock ticked down to zero, everybody readied themselves for the upcoming attack. They visualised the plan of the house in their minds and went through the attack plan ensuring that the execution would be perfect. There would be no allowance for mistakes – they were shorthanded and they were attacking an unknown stronghold with an unknown security force.

But it was nothing that _Vengeance_ could not handle.

* * *

 ** _Hull 67_**

Mary was in the yacht's state-of-the-art Command Centre.

Jasper and Sarah were operating the systems before them allowing those remaining aboard to listen to the assault teams and in certain cases, view what was going on. Ginny and Lynn were responsible for monitoring the dock in case of any problems with the local authorities. The engines were warm and they could be restarted in an instant for a quick departure.

"I assume you can handle this?" Lynn commented as she handed Mary a holstered Glock 19 pistol.

"She can," Ginny confirmed. "We've used Glocks on the range, although she's never actually fired one in anger."

Mary's face went a little pink at the comment but nobody noticed.

"There's always a first time for everything," Jasper commented as Mary strapped on the holster.

Mary checked the weapon; ejecting the magazine and checking the action before returning the magazine and re-holstering the weapon to Jasper's nodding approval.

..._...

Mary had done everything that she could, to help those preparing to go out.

However, she had been very surprised by the openness as everybody changed and prepared for the evening's activities – nobody seemed to close doors to change or even lock the bathroom door while they showered or weed. At one stage, Olivia was actually standing in the bathroom while she put her hair up without a thought as to who might see her standing there, as naked as the day she was born, having just taken a shower. Also standing around the place, just as naked, were Naomi and Harper as they did each other's hair. There appeared to be a distinct lack of modesty amongst the girls but none appeared to mind. Despite Mary being at a similar stage of physical development to Olivia, she would _never_ strip off in public – nobody, other than Ginny, had seen her naked since she was about six, indeed when Mary had showered earlier that day, the bathroom door had been firmly locked. Mary had then received another surprise, actually a shock, when she had caught sight of Electra drying off after her own shower – the scar . . . Electra had waved it off and briefly suggested that they discuss it later.

Everybody was all business as they pulled on functional underwear and then their combat suits. As Mary understood it, they were wearing the Fusion Covert Combat Suit Mk2 – or FCCS2 for short. The FCCS2 suit would be covered by normal clothing as they travelled but the extra clothing would be shed before the actual attack. Mary recognised the suits to be of the same design to that which Electra had worn in London. Olivia was struggling with hers – apparently, she had never worn one before. Harper had taken pity on the older girl and had assisted her into the remarkably light trousers and top. Cassie had commented that the suits for Olivia and her sister had been made soon after Jessica had blundered into the Fusion Command Centre, one afternoon.

To be honest, Mary was envious of the team as they geared up in state-of-the-art equipment while she was forced to sit on the sidelines.

* * *

 ** _Kirk Michael_**

 ** _21:45_**

The house was large, and was surrounded by over six acres of grounds.

Both assault teams avoided the main gates to the east of the house where there were six men on duty, not to mention the pair of armoured BMW X5 4x4s which sat outside the front of the house on the oval-shaped drive. The men were all armed with modern automatic weapons and they were all physically large. Considering the nationality of the woman who lived at the house, the mercenaries were probably a mixture of Brits and Americans.

Infrared scans had revealed that there were upwards of two-dozen guards in and around the property – the woman obviously took her security very seriously. Backup forces had also been identified including the woman's helicopter, a Sikorsky S-76, which was ensconced on a concrete pad to the south of the house. The pilots for the helicopter were accommodated above the triple car garage, thirty or so yards from their ride.

Six men patrolled the gardens which surrounded the house to the north and east sides – they died first.

* * *

 ** _Assault Team One: Nemesis, Stripe, Ajax, Harrier, Prowl, Polaris_**

From the east, six shapes moved through the darkness.

They all stopped at a single signal and as one, they crouched down, their SIG Sauer MPX-SD submachine guns aimed towards the enemy. Prowl and Polaris moved up alone, they monitored the six men who moved around the brightly-lit rear gardens. They were professionals and they kept their weapons ready for instant action. Between the _Predators_ and their quarry was a six-foot wooden fence with trembler wire secured. Trembler wire recorded any significant vibrations on the fencing which would then trigger an alarm. However, due to heavy winds over the past few nights, the alarms had been disabled – that fact was confirmed by Akuma.

 _"Prowl, Polaris – Akuma – you are go; alarms are down!"_

The two vigilantes ran forwards, their weapons pushed behind their backs and they both vaulted the fence like they were a pair of scurrying monkeys. They came down into shrubberies which surrounded the interior boundary of the gardens. The heavens were obviously on their side as the rain increased to torrential proportions. Prowl and Polaris each ran towards a man, picking a target which was momentarily out of sight of another man – the rain had reduced visibility somewhat, despite the blazing flood-lighting.

As one, both vigilantes leapt into the air and they slashed their targets' throats, dragging them to the ground, before issuing the coup de grâce with a stab to the heart – not because of any misplaced feeling of mercy, but because the operation demanded quick, silent deaths. Before the bodies had ceased twitching, the vigilantes were expertly stalking their next prey. Within another minute, two more men were dead, their still-warm blood seeping into the perfectly-manicured lawn.

"Targets down – coast is clear," Polaris reported coldly as she made her third kill of the evening without conscious thought.

* * *

 ** _Assault Team Two: Crimson, Drift, Rigour, Glide, Overrun_**

Sixty yards away, to the north of the house, four men were just as dead.

Rigour and Glide ensured that the fifth man died just as violently as his comrades – he never knew what took his life, nor for that matter that he had died at all. The operation was three minutes old and eleven men would never see another sunrise – even better; nobody knew they were dead. The two individual teams reformed and moved towards the main house in tandem from their different directions.

Team Two took the north end of the house, entering what the plans described as the 'day room', on the ground floor. No alarm was tripped as they levered open the double doors from the patio – Q had taken care of that. The house was ultra-hi-tech, to a fault – so much so that everything was 'internet connected' – even the damn fridge!

"Team Two is inside," Crimson reported as they closed the door behind them.

* * *

 ** _The Study  
First Floor_**

The woman was in her late forties with long flowing light brown hair.

She sat at her desk, a pair of ornate spectacles balanced on her nose as she looked through some papers. It had been a long day and she was tired, but there was still plenty of work to be done. The current set of papers were briefing documents concerning an organisation known as V _engeance_. She hated them with a passion, mush as she did with their sister organisation, _Fusion_. She momentarily glanced up at a portrait which hung on the wall above her desk. It was of a giant yacht – _Cummings Delight_ , was the name – although, at that moment, the yacht was a permanent feature on the ocean floor in the North Atlantic.

Hit Girl was going to pay – in blood. _Vengeance_ had come to the end of the line – yes, their fall from grace was a part of something much, much, bigger, but it was still a pleasant bonus.

* * *

 ** _Central England_**

"Sir!"

"What is it?"

"Susan Cummings is under attack, sir."

"From what?" the man demanded has he jumped up.

"We don't know, sir."

"Well, bloody find out then! Hold on . . . how do we even know?"

"Our security systems are integrated, so we're getting her CCTV feed – it just kicked off, sir – the feed, I mean."

"You recording it?"

"Yes, sir."

..._...

The security guard replaced the phone and they sat back to watch the unfolding attack.

Before them, they could see a swimming pool. There were a pair of guards at one end of the long room. They were talking but then they almost jumped and they both stood staring at the ceiling. Neither saw a door being forced open, part way down the room. Neither saw two armour-clad individuals step through the door and approach the guards.

"How the hell. . .? Turn up the volume."

The man's colleague twisted the knob on a set of speakers and . . .

 _". . . It ain't much I'm asking, I heard him say . . . Gotta find me a future move out of my way . . ."_

"Queen?"

* * *

 ** _Kirk Michael  
Isle of Man_**

The house was wired with the latest Bang & Olufsen sound system.

A fact that Q had taken to heart and he had hacked the system. He had a selection of fitting tracks to play – the sound of which would cover the assault teams attacking the house. Queen – I Want It All – was a fitting start, and it ably covered Stripe and Nemesis as they broached the swimming pool and took out another pair of guards.

A third guard stepped through the glass doors at the far end of the pool and he froze as he saw a body floating face down in the pool, a red cloud of blood blossoming out from the body. Another body lay to his left – he raised his weapon as Nemesis stood up from behind the bar and she put a bullet in his forehead. Nemesis, Stripe, Prowl, and Polaris moved on, leaving Harrier and Ajax on guard, covering their escape route. Both of the young, trainee vigilantes, were nervous and they preferred being on the outskirts of the danger.

For Ajax, it felt a lot safer and she had no desire to discharge a single round from her weapon.

* * *

 ** _The Study_**

Susan Cummings had no idea what was going on – the noise was deafening – and she hated the current track: Europe – The Final Countdown.

She cast an eye out of her westerly-facing windows and through the rain, she saw . . . a body . . . and another one . . . and . . . she grabbed up her handbag and she ran from the study, making for the staircase. She scrambled down the stairs to find one of her men engaged in a gunfight, his weapon pointed away from her into the lounge. She ran away from the man, into the kitchen. Ahead of her, as she ran down a passageway beyond the kitchen, she saw somebody appear from the swimming pool – the head wore a mask. Cummings fired off three rounds from the Browning pistol she had whipped out of her handbag and she dove down a passageway to the left.

There, she found her flight crew thundering down the stairs from their accommodation. The pilot and the co-pilot both had their pistols out and ready as they escorted their employer out through the garage. Once outside, they were met by two bodyguards and the five of them ran for the helicopter pad and the Sikorsky S-76 which sat ready and waiting for flight. They made it a dozen yards before there was a loud whooshing sound and then the £10-million helicopter exploded, blasting the five people head over heels away from the helipad.

Susan Cummings scrambled to her feet and she stared at her pilot who sagged onto his knees, his chest a mass of blood which was rapidly being washed away by the driving rain but being constantly replenished from his injuries. The co-pilot was probably dead – his severed head lay a number of feet from his body. She was dragged by her two surviving bodyguards back towards the house and the armoured vehicles out front.

High above, the sound of a single turbine engine could be heard.

* * *

 ** _Scourge_**

Raptor hauled the McDonnell Douglas MD530F attack helicopter around with ease as he prepared to cut off escape route number two.

The Chief prodded the buttons which surrounded the multi-function display and he switched the currently selected weapon from the Raytheon AGM-176B Griffin Precision-Guided Munition (PGM) and he selected the dual 7.62-mm M134D miniguns as the helicopter lined up parallel to front of the large house. The MX-10D infra-red pod mounted beneath the cockpit saw through the rain and darkness, picking out the warm targets of the BMW X5 4x4s which were being readied for a quick escape.

The helicopter dove downwards before Raptor depressed the trigger on his cyclic and the unmistakeable, gut-wrenching chainsaw sound of the miniguns sending armour-piercing death earthwards, cut through the night before cutting through the two armoured 4x4s and the men standing close by. Only the self-sealing fuel tanks prevented the vehicles from exploding but the devastation was total and the luxury vehicles would never again suit their intended purpose.

As Scourge passed overhead, one or two bodyguards fired off a few rounds but all fell wide of the mark.

* * *

 ** _Assault Team One: Nemesis, Stripe, Prowl, Polaris_**

The four vigilantes ignored the explosions occurring outside and the sounds of heavy gunfire.

Q had thankfully turned off the music. He had been scraping the barrel with: Kenny Loggins – Danger Zone! Nemesis made her way into the kitchen first, where she could see a bodyguard just as the lights went out throughout the building. The idiot was worse than slow in the mind as a bright light drew his attentions much like a fly to a bright light. The flashing writing on the screen attracted his attention but he was slow to comprehend the threat. He read the words, several times before comprehension finally dawned, which was far . . . too . . . late.

He turned, raising his automatic weapon, only for a large knife to come towards him, out of the darkness. Nemesis grinned as she yanked her knife out of the man's chest and he fell to the granite floor. She looked at the screen set into the left-hand door of the giant fridge and she chuckled at the flashing words which had so confused the guard.

 _You're  
fucked!_

Q liked his little games!

..._...

Unfortunately, things started to go a little wrong for the assault teams.

Assault Team Two found themselves pinned down in the lounge by several bodyguards, all armed with automatic weapons. Some men had made an entry behind them into the day room and had them in a crossfire. Assault Team One made a move to assist Team Two, but they met intensive fire from the main entrance hall and they quickly retreated into the kitchen. Then, a bodyguard threw a hand grenade which detonated in the kitchen with a bright flash and part of the ceiling collapsed down on top of Prowl and Polaris, pinning the unfortunate Polaris to the granite floor.

"Ajax, Harrier – we need you both," Nemesis called.

Back in the swimming pool, Harrier ran forwards, but Ajax hung back. She was shaking – the noise of gunfire, the explosions, it was too much for her. Harrier ran forwards down the corridor to the kitchen and he began to dig out the girls while Nemesis and Stripe kept up a barrage of fire with their limited ammunition.

 _"Ajax – you've got to step up; we need you,"_ Prowl radioed.

Polaris was trapped and Prowl was hurt – neither of them were of any use at that moment. Ajax froze, she did not know what to do. She continued to shake, just as she had been for the past twenty minutes.

 _"You can do it!"_ Polaris encouraged.

* * *

 ** _Assault Team Three: Scorpion, La Terreaur, La Coccinelle, La Chat Noir, Forager_**

At the same time that Team One and Team Two were having problems inside, Assault Team Three received an urgent radio call from _Scourge_.

 _"Four vehicles, coming from the south at speed – Team Three standby to engage."_

As one, the team stood up and moved forwards up the slope towards the road. They heard _Scourge_ coming closer and then the night was lit up as the twin M134D miniguns cut through the convoy and there was the horrendous sound of vehicles skidding on the wet road and then the tearing of steel as vehicles collided. Once _Scourge_ was clear, Team Three moved forwards to check out the scene.

It was total carnage.

One of the vehicles was wrecked and was firmly embedded into a hedge while another vehicle, probably a Land Rover – it was difficult to tell in the darkness what the shredded hulk used to be – had smashed into another vehicle which had overturned and was lying on its left side. The fourth vehicle had survived remarkably unscathed. Of the sixteen men in the convoy, less than half had survived the attack and subsequent crashes in any fit state to fight a battle.

"Bad day?" La Coccinelle asked as she put a bullet into the head of a man who was crawling from the wreckage.

The survivors had not expected an ambush and they all died in a hail of gunfire form the weapons of La Chat Noir and La Terreaur. Forager kept to the sidelines without firing his weapon, stunned by the sights before him.

"Team Three reports the convoy neutralised," La Coccinelle radioed.

 _"Bien!"_ Akuma responded.

With that, Team Three returned to their previous position.

* * *

 ** _Hull 67_**

Mary listened to the conversation and decided that she had to do something.

 _"Ajax won't engage,"_ Nemesis advised.

 _"Assault Team Three, standby to backup Team Two!"_ Q ordered from his command van.

"Can I speak to her – only her?" Mary asked.

Jasper pressed a few options on a touchscreen and he nodded. Mary grabbed a microphone and she began to speak.

"Ajax, this is Belle. I know how you're feeling. My second time out, it all got out of hand and I was _so_ scared, I weed myself. The man came at me and I froze; he had hurt the woman I was trying to help – I felt disgusted about being weak, for weeing myself – I shot him and I killed him."

"You did _what_?" Ginny exploded.

"I've never told anybody about that," Mary continued, ignoring Ginny. "They need you, just as that woman needed me. I had to step up; so must you. Go, but stay safe."

 _"I . . . okay . . . I'll try – promise me you'll tell me the full story?"_ Ajax responded shakily.

"I promise."

* * *

 **Ajax**

She moved without thinking.

The teenager had weed herself at the sight of the first dead body, so that wasn't a problem. She ran out of the swimming pool, into the rain, and across the lawn, towards the dining room.

 _"Ajax – we need you!"_

 _"Ajax!"_

Her friends were in trouble. She had to help them. Her friends were in trouble. She had to help them. The same mantra went through her mind, again and again. She reached the doors to the dining room - the glass was gone; shot out by the gunfire. She gripped her submachine gun tightly and she raised the powerful weapon to her shoulder, just as she had been taught. Only then, did she enter the room. It was like those games Christopher liked to play on his Xbox. She could see the enemy – in her mind she saw the man who had killed her parents, her finger tightened on the trigger, then the vision faded and she saw clearly as she squeezed the trigger . . . once . . . twice. She switched target . . . once . . . twice. Two men dead. She could hear the radio in her ear.

 _"Ajax is engaging!"_ Stripe yelled happily as he saw Ajax drop two men with apparent ease.

 _"Assault Team Three – hold!"_ Q ordered.

Then Ajax froze as the two men dropped to the ground – dead by her hand.

..._...

"Fucking move!" Stripe yelled as he saw two bodyguards appear to Ajax's left – her situational awareness sucked!

The boy dove through the air and he shoved the girl to the ground just as machinegun fire traced across the wall behind her. Nemesis ran past, sending deadly fire into the bodyguards who were even then just reacting to the fact that some of their comrades had been gunned down from their blind side. Ajax looked up into the masked face of Stripe who looked down at her. She felt his body on top of her own and her breathing quickened for a moment before Prowl appeared, hobbling slightly. She gamely pulled Stripe back to his feet as she shook her head in disgust.

"Now is not the time for fucking, you two," Polaris growled as she too limped into the room, her combat suit almost white with plaster dust from the collapsed ceiling. "Well done, Ajax."

"Thanks," Ajax muttered as she regained her feet and brought her weapon up.

* * *

 ** _Assault Team Three: Scorpion, La Terreaur, La Coccinelle, La Chat Noir, Forager_**

 _"Assault Team Three – Akuma – stand to!"_

The combined British/French vigilante team started back up the slope in line abreast just as _Scourge_ hovered atop them and fired her second AGM-176B Griffin missile of the evening. The electric gates were blown apart, cutting down several men, just as the assault team ran towards the house, crossing the road and gunning down anybody they saw moving.

"Stop!"

A soaked and shivering Susan Cummings glared up at Scorpion who held the muzzle of her weapon mere inches from the woman's head. The woman was muddy from the waist down and Scorpion grinned as she indicated for her to stand. The reluctance and hate in the expression was menacing but it meant nothing to the angry vigilante. She knew what Cummings was to _Vengeance_ , Scorpion had heard the story about the seaborne invasion of the bitch's mega-yacht. Crimson and Nemesis had met the woman previously onboard that yacht – before they sank it, of course!

Forager ran ahead and he pushed open the front door, holding it open for Scorpion to lead Cummings inside the house and out of the driving rain. In the lighting which was just snapping on, the woman looked beyond bedraggled.

* * *

 ** _Central England_**

The CCTV screen went blank just as the last man fell.

"What happened to the feed?"

"Checking, sir!"

"Well?"

"It keeps coming back with the same error, sir: 'file not found'."

"Well, bloody find it!"

"Yes, sir . . .! Hold on, sir!"

The man turned as the screen came back to life once again. He braced up, unnerved by the masked face with red markings which filled the screen.

"We're coming for you . . . maybe not, tomorrow . . . maybe not, next week . . . but we _are_ coming for you – sleep tight!"

The electronically enhanced voice had hissed out of the speakers loaded with venom, then the screen went blank for the final time.

* * *

 ** _Kirk Michael  
Isle of Man_**

Cummings found herself being dragged into the lounge where a chair had been procured from the dining room and she was unceremoniously strapped to the chair.

"So, Susan, we meet again," Crimson stated as she studied the unhappy woman.

"I have _nothing_ to say to scum like you."

"I have no real desire to even be in the same hemisphere as you, but we all have to lower our standards from time to time," Crimson growled back.

"How's the yacht?" Nemesis asked in an even tone.

The look she received was worthy of Hit Girl herself.

"Too soon?" Nemesis laughed.

"What do you want in my home?" Susan Cummings growled angrily.

"Information, honey!" Crimson replied.

"My lips are sealed."

"No problem – we don't need you."

..._...

The sights were too much for the young girl.

Ajax staggered to the kitchen sink just in time as she ripped off her mask and then threw up violently. Prowl stood by the older girl as she puked, offering moral support. Ajax had just executed her first double-kill and the sight of the blood and dead bodies was something which was hard to adjust to. Prowl felt for the girl – as a brand-new vigilante with little training under her belt, she had done well and she had stood up when needed, despite her fear. Prowl knew what it was to be scared so badly that you could not control your bodily functions. Prowl could smell the urine over the smell of sweat, puke, and God only knew what.

"Hang in there, Ajax."

..._...

It took barely ten minutes for every item of useful technology in the house to be seized and packaged in special Faraday bags which would block all and any electronic signals.

Anything which could be of even the remotest use was also seized and securely packaged. Once everything was gathered together, the items were shoved into packs for the ride back to the yacht. Crimson and Nemesis gathered everybody together out on the front drive where Scorpion, Q, and Akuma appeared with the Land Rovers. Q's Command Van was happily burning, a mile away, down a side road.

"You done?" Susan Cummings demanded as she faced Stripe.

"We are. We're going to leave you now."

"You're leaving me alive?"

"Kind of – I've called the Fire Brigade, so we'll see."

"Fire Brigade?"

"Your house is on fire," Stripe commented.

"No, it isn't," Cummings said as she looked around.

There were dead bodies, severed limbs, some more dead bodies, demolished furniture, and the carpets were soaked in blood, but there was no sign of any fire.

"My mistake," Stripe admitted as he pulled the pins on a pair of incendiary grenades. "Goodnight."

Stripe ran out the door, throwing a grenade to his left and his right.

* * *

 ** _Hull 67_**

Mary was pacing the deck as she awaited the teams' return.

Sarah was pacing the bridge as she awaited the return of her sister, as well as the others. She had the vessel ready to move – the engines idling. Then, she was relieved to see them as the vehicles came down the road at speed before stopping sharply. The dock was clear – it _was_ early morning. She counted everybody aboard – more than had departed, hours before, but the figures added up.

Four minutes after the last person had set foot on the deck, the mega-yacht was backing away from the dock.

..._...

The main deck was busy as the many exhausted vigilantes struggled out of their armour.

Naomi and Harper were being checked over by Lynn while Jessica was trying to help her sister, but Jessica herself was very tired. Mary pushed through the crowded decks and she took Olivia into her care, helping her down to the cabin.

"Thanks, Mary."

"I haven't been able to do very much, so I want to help. Come on – sit down, let's get this suit off and then you need a shower . . . you stink!"

Olivia looked distinctly embarrassed.

"Don't be embarrassed, Olivia – I know what it's like to lose control of your bladder. Did it serve its purpose?"

"I killed two men, tonight . . . I didn't want to."

"Don't think about it," Mary said as she pulled off Olivia's top and set to work on her boots and trousers.

Once Olivia was undressed, Mary helped her into the shower and then sat outside while Olivia washed.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Mary."

"Yes, you could; I only helped you along."

"Without you, I might have done nothing and people would have died."

"I did what I could," Mary conceded.

* * *

 ** _Tuesday, October 4th_**

 ** _Liverpool, England  
Position: 53.4279° N 3.1485° W  
At anchor, 415nm logged_**

 ** _1547 hours_**

There had been no training that day.

Everybody who had participated in the attack had been allowed to go to bed and stay in bed as long as they wished. Lunch ended up being breakfast, so most had brunch. By one, that afternoon, everybody was up, having enjoyed a big breakfast and feeling a lot better for the rest and the hot food. After lunch, everybody generally lazed around.

The oversized complement aboard, now numbering twenty-five , had been swelled by the arrival of Trevor Lai and David Montgomery. They had escorted _Scourge_ back to the mainland, via Liverpool, on a lorry before joining them aboard the yacht.

"Mum?"

"Yes, daughter."

Kaitlin grinned – she loved being called that.

"Royalty name boats, right?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"How about we get Mary to name this tub?"

"Not a bad suggestion – and a surprising one for you, girl."

"Thanks, Mum!" Kaitlin grinned.

..._...

"Mary – you got a moment?"

The Princess looked up from her intensive conversation with Olivia.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked.

"Feeling guilty?" Ginny asked pointedly.

"Nope."

Mary had been avoiding her protector ever since the previous evening's proclamation.

"No, Mary – we just wanted a chat," Keira said as she led the thirteen-year-old up a deck where Mary was offered a seat.

Sarah, Keira, and Cassie sat down facing Mary.

Behind them stood Natasha and Cameron with Ginny off to one side.

"I didn't do it?" Mary tried.

Ginny laughed.

"You're safe," Keira chuckled before she turned serious. "We would like you, Princess Mary, to name this vessel – you are royalty after all."

Mary was speechless for a moment, her mouth flapping like a goldfish.

"I . . . Me? I would be honoured."

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _1800 hours_**

It was time for a very special evening.

However, before the festivities could begin, there was an important nautical tradition to maintain. Everybody was gathered on the bow, while Princess Mary stood in the eyes of the yacht, as far forward as possible. It was not the most perfect evening – it was cold and overcast – but they would not be on deck for all that long. In her hands, the Princess held a medium-sized bottle of Champagne. As the clock ticked over to 1800, she began to speak, loudly, and precisely.

"I name this vessel: _Caledonia_. May God bless her and all who sail in her."

With that, she brought the bottle down onto the port capstan in the bow. Mary screamed as the bottle shattered and Champagne exploded over the freshly-christened yacht's bow. There was cheering and clapping from everybody aboard as Mary just blushed a brilliant shade of pink.

"I'm very proud of you, Mary," Ginny said with all sincerity.


	34. Caledonia

**_Tuesday, October 4th, 2016_**

 ** _Scotland_**

 _"Whitehall 4281,"_ the voice with a hint of American accent said after the call was connected.

"I . . . I was given this number to call by my fiancé – I haven't heard from her in quite a while and I am very worried."

 _"Please hold."_

Andrew was very worried - he had not seen nor heard from Cassie in almost two weeks. Her home was empty and there were signs of a hurried exit.

 _"Connecting you now. . ."_

There was a stream of beeps before another voice – a computerised one.

 _"Encryption negotiated. Call is secure."_

"Andrew?"

"Cass!"

"Hi, Andrew . . . Oh, God – I'm so sorry for running out on you," Cassie said quickly.

"Are you in trouble?"

"Kind of."

"Can I see you?"

"Not right now – but I'll see what I can do."

"Okay – I love you, you know."

"I know and I love you so much – I miss you, Andrew."

"Take care, Cass."

"I will, I promise."

"Love you."

"Love you."

* * *

 ** _Liverpool, England  
Position: 53.4279° N 3.1485° W  
At anchor, 415nm logged_**

 ** _MY Caledonia_**

 ** _1817 hours_**

"You got a party dress in your bag?" Electra asked as they all scrambled to get changed after the naming ceremony.

Mary grinned.

"I'm even lugging a sodding mourning dress!"

It didn't take long for all the girls get changed – most were surprised to find new clothes awaiting them. There were many squeals of delight as they all changed.

"Wow!" Olivia grinned as she saw Kaitlin emerge from the gangway. "I never saw you as a girly girl, but you scrub up nicely."

Kaitlin actually blushed as she twirled so everybody could see the pink party dress which stopped at her knees and the pearl-coloured pumps.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," Kaitlin replied.

Olivia wore a knee-length dress in dark blue which was attracting the attentions of Craig and the other boys. However, all attentions shifted when something yellow appeared.

"Bloody hell!" Jeremy commented.

"Damn!" Christopher added as Craig's mouth simply fell open.

The yellow dress appeared to clash with Mary's red face but nobody appeared to have noticed.

"That is _not_ the dress which was packed for you," Ginny exclaimed.

The dress was yellow and sleeveless. The problem, at least from Ginny's point of view, if not the boys', was that the dress ended somewhere mid-thigh, showing off much more of the thirteen-year-old Princess' skin than would be deemed proper. Her long brown hair hung loosely across her shoulders.

"They seem to like it," Mary said, indicating the drooling, speechless, boys.

"They're boys – they have a dick which has probably taken the blood from their brains," Ginny explained rather crudely.

Mary's went redder and she sat down between Olivia and Jessica who wore a plain cream, knee-length, dress.

"She's fine, Ginny," Cassie directed. "Let her enjoy being a teenager – we were all one once."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ginny commented dryly. "I remember what _I_ was like at thirteen."

"Me, too!" Cassie laughed.

..._...

There was music with plenty of food and drink.

Jeremy was over the moon because his father was there. Yvette too, was pleased to have her family with her. Everybody needed the time to decompress. Naomi and Harper were still very sore from having a ceiling drop on top of them, but apart from some bruising, they were okay. Indeed, Harper's dress was short enough to expose a large bruise on her lower thigh which the girl found very sore if anybody accidentally rubbed up against it.

Mary was spending the time listening to _Vengeance_ stories and catching up on what had been going on over the past few weeks.

"Before the visit to the police station, we all went to McDonalds – holy shit that was fun!" Olivia exclaimed as she munched a cheese burger.

"How come?" Mary asked.

"Apparently, Naomi, Kaitlin, and Harper were blacklisted from the Pizza Hut in Stirling – Cassie said a hand grenade would have caused less of a problem than those three."

Mary looked over at the three, not-so-innocent-looking girls as she cocked an eyebrow.

"It wasn't intentional," Kaitlin protested.

"It never is, with you," Cassie threw in.

"I was an innocent bystander," Harper tried.

"Explain the overflowing toilets," Cassie demanded.

"Oh – forgot about them," Harper muttered.

"That was a very humiliating day," Cassie commented.

"It was," Kaitlin agreed.

"Not for you idiots – me!" Cassie growled.

"I get no respect!" Kaitlin whined as everybody laughed.

"I keep hearing about this girl, Stephanie," Mary said. "Who is she?"

"She's the reason that we are free," Electra stated simply.

"Without her, we might still be _Predators_ ," Harper confirmed. "Stephanie could be seen as worse than use, when it comes to killing. She became the ultimate _Predator_ , of a sort."

"Stephanie was discovered by Hit Girl – she was taken in by Hit Girl," Cassie explained further. "When Hit Girl found out about what her own government was doing to children – creating killers in her own image – she went ballistic and vowed to take down _Urban Predator_."

"And she did," Naomi confirmed. "It was during the attack on the facility in Toulouse that me and Kaitlin were rescued and we found a new home in Scotland."

Kaitlin cuddled up close to Cassie who hugged her youngest daughter.

"It hasn't even been a year, yet," Naomi continued. "But our lives are so much different. It took a few weeks before I could remember how to be a little girl – how to play and have fun. We had our ups and downs – Kaitlin destroyed a police BMW before we figured out that us _Predators_ needed an outlet."

"Is that why you went out on the streets of London, against your grandfather's will?" Mary asked Electra.

"Yes, it is."

"Electra is a little different to us," Harper explained. "Electra started off life as a Yellow – basically a cast off from the recruitment. She met Stephanie during one of Stephanie's punishment sessions and Stephanie helped to train her."

"You saw my scar – that was from another _Predator_. She was called Abigail: she was a rising star, like Stephanie. They were pitted against one another, and the sadistic bastards threw me in as a millstone around Stephanie's neck – they hated Stephanie with a passion. Abigail slashed me during a fight – the idea being that Stephanie would be distracted by my injuries. Stephanie won the fight and Abigail survived – she now lives in Chicago where Stephanie is helping her readjust."

"They're friends?" Mary was very surprised.

"What happened in the past was bad, but we were all forced into it, against our will. We've come to terms with it – sort of. All of us here were trained to see the other _Predators_ as competitors," Harper explained. "Me and Naomi were rivals and we hated each other. . ."

"Now they're all over each other," Kaitlin commented. "They'll be having lesbian sex, next."

Harper ignored Kaitlin and continued.

"Yes, Stephanie and Electra hated Abigail's guts – they almost killed Abigail the first time they met again, a few weeks back. But, with help from us all, they've become uneasy friends, if you like."

Mary was stunned by everything she was hearing. There were times when she thought that her own upbringing sucked – but. . .

"Hey!" Craig intervened. "This is supposed to be a party and I want Olivia for a dance."

"A snog, more like," Harper muttered causing Olivia and Craig to blush violently.

Jeremy stepped forwards and he held out his hand to Mary.

"Would you care to dance, ma'am?" he asked and Mary actually giggled as she went very red in the face, but she took his hand. "You're very beautiful."

"It's enough to make you sick," Kaitlin growled as she made for the buffet for more food.

..._...

 _"So, how are my girls doing?"_

"We're fine, mum," Sarah replied as she saw her mother sipping a cup of tea, in the kitchen of Safehouse VY over the video link.

 _"I hope you are both behaving – you two together is enough to cause your father heartburn."_

The two adult women gave their mother a withering stare before they both grinned.

"We're being perfect angels," Cassie grinned.

Alexandra burst out laughing at that comment and it was a good minute before she recovered enough to see her two daughters looking very annoyed with her.

 _"You two couldn't be angels if your lives depended on it!"_ Alexandra chuckled. _"Your halos are around your ankles – much like your knickers usually are!"_

"Mother!" Sarah exclaimed, her face reddening.

 _"Well, I'll leave you two for whatever, while Amy and I settle down to a game of Scrabble. Stay safe, girls, I love you both very much."_

"Love you, Mum."

..._...

"Thank you, Craig," Olivia swooned as they danced together.

"No problem, Liv," Craig replied with a cheeky grin.

"No, I mean it," Olivia persisted as she wrapped her arms around the boy and then she kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh, God!" Kaitlin growled, appalled by the display. "Get a fucking room!"

"Be a good little girl, Kaitlin," Olivia said. "Fuck off!"

Kaitlin's mouth dropped open in a mock show of annoyance and she stalked off to cause some trouble elsewhere.

"Where were we," Olivia mused as she began to kiss Craig again.

..._...

Kaitlin was annoyed to find that her usual points for causing trouble were not readily available – Cassie was off with her sister, presumably on the bridge. Naomi was chatting with Christopher while Harper was getting rather close to Jeremy. Mary was talking to Marinette and Adrien while Electra sat with Lynn, leaving Yvette, Jessica, and Kaitlin unattached and loitering.

"You going to kiss, or what?" Kaitlin asked as she came around behind Harper and Jeremy.

"Let's go find some fresh air, Jezza," Harper suggested as she grabbed Jeremy and she pulled him out onto the deck.

Kaitlin scowled as Naomi took Christopher off in the same direction with a sly grin. She then looked over at Jessica and Yvette.

"Aren't we a bunch of sorry bitches!" she exclaimed. "And don't you even think about it – I ain't a fuckin' lesbian!"

"Never crossed my sordid mind," Jessica replied indignantly.

"Moi non plus," Yvette added with a scowl.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Wednesday, October 5th_**

 ** _Liverpool, England  
Position: 53.4279° N 3.1485° W  
At anchor, 415nm logged_**

 ** _MY Caledonia_**

 ** _0700 hours_**

 _"All hands, all hands, rise and shine!"_

"Fuck me!" Olivia growled as she forced her eyes open for a brief moment, before burying her head in her pillow.

"I'm so tired," Harper muttered.

"That's what comes from snogging all night," Kaitlin said as she flipped on the overhead lights and scampered off up the steps to the deck above before she come to any physical harm.

"Little bitch," Naomi moaned.

Olivia scrambled out of the bed and she quickly stripped off for a shower. She could hear water running, so she knew somebody was in the bathroom, but she pushed open the door anyway. She recognised the silhouette through the glass of the shower cubicle.

"Morning, Mary!"

There was a squeal and a little scream as Mary tried to cover herself.

"I'm showering!" Mary called out indignantly.

"So, what?" Olivia responded as she sat on the toilet to pee. "Princesses have different bits to us commoners?"

Mary laughed.

"No – same as you," Mary confirmed.

"Yep!" Olivia agreed as she stuck her head into the shower and ran her eyes up and down Mary.

"You're the first person to see me naked since I was about six," Mary advised Olivia.

"Me too, until I met this lot – nudity ain't a big thing around here."

"So, I've noticed – but, we're older and have. . ." Mary persisted as she resisted the urge to cover up her private parts.

"Hairy parts?" Olivia grinned. "That's what Kaitlin calls pubic hair. We are what we are and all our bodies are much the same, plus or minus some hair and boobs."

"True – but I'm still not walking around naked, out there."

Olivia grinned and vanished. Mary was relieved to be able to go back to her shower in private – only that did not last long as the naked Olivia soon returned and she was not alone.

"Behold, the naked princess!" Olivia proclaimed as Yvette, Naomi, Harper, and Jessica all peered into the shower.

Mary blushed bright red and she laughed.

"You're _so_ cruel, Olivia!" Harper grinned.

..._...

At 0800, on the dot, the anchor was weighed and Caledonia, headed in an easterly direction to clear Anglesey.

Ahead of them all, there was a 465-nautical mile voyage towards the south coast of England. The voyage would take two days. Jeremy and David had left the yacht at Liverpool, along with Eric and Alya. Yvette was very pleased to have her family remaining onboard. Mary, too, was remaining aboard – she had spoken with her father, briefly, to advise him that she was safe and having fun. She did comment on his letter and how she was being treated like a normal teenager, rather than a princess, twelfth in line to the throne.

He was very pleased to hear that!

* * *

 ** _Off the Anglesey coast, 50nm east of Dublin  
Position: 53.3482° N 4.8.55° W  
Course: 205°, Speed: 14 knots, 481.7nm logged_**

 ** _MY Caledonia_**

 ** _1245 hours_**

The Irish Sea was rough and some of the youngsters were struggling to re-find their sea legs.

For Sarah and Keira, it was perfect weather to be pounding through the waves – it was after all the career that they had both desired since they were very young. For Sarah, a life at sea continued, however, Keira had different responsibilities but despite that, she was still on the Reserves List and thus liable for recall in time of war. Keira missed the spray, the soothing motion of the waves and the challenge of safely navigating a vessel through treacherous seas. The world's oceans were a hard mistress to serve.

"You enjoyed this?" Harper asked her sister.

"I loved it. The sea was my life. I miss it."

"You gave it up for me," Harper said, feeling bad about taking her sister's dreams away.

"Yes, I did – and I'd do it again, Harper."

Kaitlin pretended to stick her finger down her throat.

"Enough!" Sarah ordered. "Kaitlin, go find Cassie and ask her for a long stand, please."

"No problem," Kaitlin said and she vanished off the bridge.

Harper laughed.

"You're nasty!" she grinned. "I love it!"

..._...

Forty minutes later, Kaitlin returned, looking perplexed.

"Yes?" Sarah prompted.

"Cassie says she hasn't got one – I stood for ages while she checked, though – she wants a can of dehydrated water," Kaitlin responded.

Harper struggled to keep a straight face, as did Jeremy.

"Tell her I'll have a look for one, but only if she gives you a copper magnet. Then, when you come back, we need to fill in an ID-ten-T form, for you."

"Back soon!" Kaitlin said as she vanished again.

"Wait for it. . ." Sarah directed with a wink at Keira.

" _HEY!_ " came a shout from a few feet aft.

Kaitlin reappeared, her face looking very pink and she was struggling not to laugh. Harper and Jeremy couldn't take it any longer and they fell to the deck laughing so much that they could barely breathe.

"I hate _all_ of you!"

"Hi, sweetie," Cassie grinned from behind Kaitlin. "You found that dehydrated water, yet?"

"Not funny, Mum!"

..._...

Whilst Kaitlin was extremely intelligent and her mind worked very fast, she was also very susceptible to suggestion and the eight-year-old could be very gullible at times – however, it was all part of the charm which was Kaitlin.

Everybody loved the cheeky little girl who was always, or so it seemed, out to cause trouble. She loved to be in the thick of whatever was going on – a fight, a game, or just talking. She was the youngest in _Vengeance_ , but she never let that get in her way. She could keep up with the older kids without much work – the girl was incredibly fit – and she could fight almost as well as her elder sibling. The overriding factor for Kaitlin was her loyalty. Jasper had once referred to her as like a Jack Russell, yapping along by your ankles. Only, he meant it out of respect, not as a joke. If you had Kaitlin watching your back, you knew that you were safe and that she would never let you down – ever. Her excitement and happiness were infectious and difficult to avoid.

Cassie loved her and she knew that she could never replace the youngster.

* * *

 ** _MY Caledonia_**

 ** _2102 hours_**

"Come on, Electra, today!"

"Okay! We're . . . twelve nautical miles east of . . . St David's, South Wales."

"Position?"

"Err . . . Position: 51.8335° North 5.6462° West."

"Course?"

"Course is 189° magnetic. Speed is 14 knots and we've logged 580.9 nautical miles."

"Very good, Electra," Keira praised as the youngster blushed happily. "We're going to make competent sailors out of you all before this is over."

"It's a lot of fun," Mary commented as she studied the chart.

Her eyes followed the pencilled line south towards Land's End and then east, up the English Channel. What were they going to find wherever it was that they were going? She could vividly remember that scar of Electra's and she hoped that nobody else was going to be maimed so cruelly. _Vengeance_ were teetering on the edge of something – but what? Mary had been struggling to figure out what was going on – but she was too young and way too inexperienced to figure it out on her own. Electra stood beside her friend and she smiled up at the Princess.

"As long as we're all a team, we'll get through this," she said.

..._...

Outside, it was very dark.

The radar showed a few contacts several miles away and it was possible to see their navigation lights through binoculars as the yacht peaked a wave. The lights were faint but still visible. The night-time watches tended to be boring and for some on their first night-time watches, they found it difficult to remain awake. However, if one person were allowed to nod off, then human nature tended to subconsciously encourage other members of the watch to fall asleep, thus leaving the vessel at risk of collision or worse.

Keira kept an eagle eye on her charges as the watch wore on and there was a steady flow of hot tea and coffee available – the kids drank the tea. It was a time for talking – quietly, so as not to wake anybody else aboard – and walking the decks to ensure that the yacht was in a suitable state. The youngsters would watch out for trailing lines or ropes and any damage to safety rails as they walked from bow to stern and stern to bow. Electra and Mary would take their time walking the decks, once per hour, during the shift.

The two very different girls, from two very different backgrounds, were borderline inseparable, Keira had noticed. The Princess had attached herself to two people onboard – other than Electra, Mary spent a lot of her time with Olivia. From Keira's point of view, Mary appeared to enjoy the human contact from girls who, through no fault of their own, had had their lives blighted. Mary was not in control of her own life due to her lineage. It was obvious that the girl craved normality and she appeared to love not being treated as a princess. Indeed, Mary was a fun child to chat with and very mature in her outlook on the world.

The thirteen-year-old Princess had impressed every adult aboard and the kids loved her. Her skills still had a distance to go before she was even remotely close to the advanced Phase 2 _Predators_. However, her current skills were not to be laughed at – she could put somebody down, when angry . . . and when she was properly concentrating. That was something which the girl needed to work on – her concentration. There were times where the world could be ending around the girl, but she would be happily chatting and giggling, without any idea of what was going on around her. That extended to her fighting – somebody could blindside her without taking any precautions what so ever. Electra had made Cassie aware of what had almost befallen the Princess on one of her trips out.

Electra was not smug about saving Mary's life, just pleased that she could help – Electra was a very special young girl.

* * *

 ** _23nm NNW of Land's End and 30nm NNE of the Isles of Scilly  
Position: 50.4022° N 6.0231° W  
Course: 179°, Speed: 14 knots, 783.3nm logged_**

 ** _MY Caledonia_**

 ** _0715 hours_**

As they approached the north end of the Lands' End Traffic Separation Scheme which would take them safely between Land's End and the Isles of Scilly, Keira studied the sea around them through a set of high-powered binoculars.

"Is it back?" Sarah asked cryptically as she entered the bridge.

"You're early," Olivia commented.

"Good morning, Olivia."

Olivia grinned as she handed Sarah a mug of coffee.

"Thank you," Sarah said before she turned towards Keira who stood on the port bridge wing. "Is it back?"

"Yes – I saw the feather about five minutes ago."

"Feather?" Craig asked.

"Periscope feather – we're being tracked by a nuclear-powered submarine of the Royal Navy," Sarah explained.

"Trafalgar class," Keira commented.

"Keira should know – she used to fly Lynx and Merlin helicopters for the Royal Navy. She used to hunt submarines, so she knows her periscopes," Sarah clarified.

"Why would a submarine be tracking us?" Olivia asked.

"We are currently HMG's most wanted," Keira offered dryly.

"Will they torpedo us?" Craig asked.

Sarah laughed.

"No – we're way too small for them to waste a multi-million-pound Spearfish torpedo on. If they wanted to take us, they would put an SBS force aboard during the night."

"Great," Craig moaned. "I won't be sleeping tonight."

"They're just keeping an eye on us in case we decide to commit treason," Keira grinned.

"You lot go get some breakfast – time for the forenoon watch," Sarah said, and the kids vanished, closely followed by Keira.

"Hi, Sarah!" Harper and Kaitlin shouted as they appeared on the bridge, full of energy.

"Great!" Sarah moaned as she took another gulp of coffee.

..._...

After passing south, between Land's End and the Isles of Scilly – a run of around two and a half hours, they turned east.

The middle of the afternoon watch saw Keira back on the bridge and _Caledonia_ thrusting through the waves about twenty nautical miles southeast of Falmouth, where they altered course northeast and headed for southern England, east of the Isle of Wight. The next leg was ninety-eight nautical miles long, on a course of 073° which would take seven hours to complete. It would mean several very boring watches as _Caledonia_ ploughed along on autopilot before they would pick up their final legs for the remaining thirty-five nautical miles to their next port. They were due to dock at around 23:30 that night.

"This is _so_ boring!" Naomi commented.

"I think it's great," Jessica disagreed.

"It is a tiny bit boring, but I'm enjoying learning something new," Craig said. "It's good to learn something that isn't killing."

"You've got a point there," Naomi conceded as she went back to her chart exercise which Keira had provided.

Despite Naomi's feelings of boredom, she put her best work into the chart, just as she did for everything that she put her mind to.

..._...

Down below, Mary and Olivia were receiving instruction on weapons from Cameron.

Both girls while familiar with weapons, still had a lot to learn. Olivia had a great eye and the rounds fired during the attack on the Isle of Man were perfectly aimed – Olivia was having trouble coping with what she had done, the fact that she had killed two men. Everybody was doing their best to keep her mind off what she had done, but there was the undeniable fact that if Olivia had not killed those men, then some of their own might have died.

That was no consolation to Olivia, but she figured that it was the best she was going to get. Craig had been there as a shoulder to cry on and Mary had been there to talk to. Electra had offered words of hope that she would get past her developing nightmares.

"Where are we going and what are we going to be doing once we get there?" Little Miss Inquisitive asked.

Cassie looked down at her youngest and she smiled.

"We are visiting Poole Harbour," Cassie explained. "We have a lead a few miles inland."

"There going to be any gunplay?" Harper asked with a hopeful expression.

"Well – we hope not, but the way things are going, anything's possible!" Cassie replied.

"What are they so happy about?" Natasha asked as the two girls ran off, laughing and yelling.

"Harper thinks she's Dirty Harry and Kaitlin wants to be John Wayne."

"I just hope that things are calming down. I wasn't happy about Olivia having to kill so soon," Natasha said.

"She had no choice, but she is not alone," Cassie replied.

..._...

The entry into the harbour was dangerous and it took both Keira and Sarah to ensure that they were following the correct track.

Most of the crew were fast asleep as they passed through the chain ferry at Sandbanks. Natasha and Cameron were up in the bow with Craig where they stood ready with the forward lines. Jasper, Cassie, and Mary were on the aft deck standing ready with the after lines. They were coming alongside portside to; therefore, large plastic fenders had been strategically deployed to protect the yacht's expensive glossy paintwork from the concrete dock. Keira took one final look aft before they lost sight of the English Channel. Plainly visible in the darkness, was a single flashing amber light which correlated with a radar-return, about five miles astern of them. The contact was moving at a crawl, barely four knots as it headed towards The Solent, passing to the north of The Needles lighthouse which was located at the western tip of the Isle of Wight.

Twenty minutes later, they were moored alongside at Poole Quay, after a bit of nifty manoeuvring to turn the forty-metre yacht within her own length, thus pointing the bow towards the exit – should a quick departure be required. Waiting on the dock to meet them were Craig and Trevor. They had arrived in the seaside town, several hours previously and had been busy acquiring suitable transport which was parked alongside the quay. They both came aboard and were quickly reunited with their family members before an armed watch was set and those not on watch retired to their cabins.

What might the next day bring?

* * *

 ** _Later that same morning  
Thursday, October 6th_**

 ** _Poole Harbour  
Position: 50.7120° N 1.988° W  
Alongside, 568.8nm logged_**

 ** _MY Caledonia_**

 ** _0922 hours_**

Breakfast was an hour late due to the late arrival.

"Kaitlin!"

The eight-year-old looked up at Natasha.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting the marmalade."

"Why can't you just ask rather than reaching across people who are trying to eat?"

Kaitlin muttered something under her breath and shrugged.

"Olivia, could you please pass me the marmalade?"

Olivia complied with a smile.

"Thank you, so much, Olivia."

Olivia rolled her eyes as Kaitlin hammed it up.

"Drama queen!" Naomi chuckled.

"See," Cassie pointed out. "You have perfect manners, Kaitlin – should you choose to use them."

"Manners are for dicks," Kaitlin commented.

"Should be fine for you then," Naomi suggested.

"Would you like me to rip out your throat, dear sister?" Kaitlin asked sweetly.

"Would you like me to rip the head off Princess Twilight Sparkle?"

"Touch her and I will. . ."

"Okay!" Cassie called out. "Get back to eating, we have a busy day ahead."

..._...

"Aren't we somewhere close to where we found Steph's brother?" Electra asked later that morning as they drove through the market town of Wimborne Minster.

"Observant, Electra – very good," Cameron commented causing the girl to blush happily.

"Where are we going?"

"We have an appointment with somebody," Cassie advised from the front seat as she drove.

Behind Cassie in the black Audi SQ7 were Harper and Naomi, sitting either side of Electra. Sitting in the third-row seating, alone, was Kaitlin. In the blue Audi SQ7 behind, Natasha and Ginny sat in the front with Natasha driving. Seated behind them, were Mary, Craig, Olivia, Jessica and Jeremy. The third vehicle was being driven by Jasper with Keira beside him and Christopher, Yvette and Alya behind them. Marinette, Adrien, and Eric remained back at the yacht for onboard security along with Sarah and Lynn. Everybody in the vehicles wore a combat suit under their clothing, with masks and weapons hidden from view. They were all acutely aware that the previous meetings and trips out had not gone all that well.

About forty minutes later, they turned off the main road and they headed up a narrow, metalled road. After another turn or two, they stopped outside the decaying remnants of a building.

"Secure the area!" Cameron ordered as everybody dismounted.

"Not you, Princess," Natasha ordered, stopping Mary and pushing her back inside the Audi. "Keep her there, Ginny."

"What's going on?" Mary demanded.

"Not now, Mary," Ginny ordered.

Mary was forced to watch everything from the safety of the Audi. Her friends were all spreading out to take up positions in the surrounding tree line and check for anybody in the surrounding area. All were armed but none were wearing their masks, considering it was broad daylight. The surrounding area was not exactly plush landscape, Mary noticed. Apart from the derelict building which looked like it had been a substantial house at some stage in the past, the area was just dirt and mud. It looked like somebody had been using it as a race track for off-road vehicles. After about forty minutes, which felt like three hours to Mary, Ginny opened the door and waved her charge out of the 4x4.

"Come, Mary," Ginny said as she kept a hand ominously close to her holstered pistol.

"What is going on?" Mary tried.

Nobody answered her as she was escorted – yes, escorted – by Ginny and Natasha to the derelict house. Mary was waved inside to where she found Trevor and David waiting with Keira and Electra. Beside them, there was a large wooden table which looked like it had been there for quite a while – the top had been cleaned off, however, and a white tablecloth had been draped over it. There were half a dozen camp folding chairs arranged around the table.

"A meeting?" Mary asked.

"Yes, your Highness," Electra confirmed.

"What's with the formality?" Mary asked.

Mary never got an answer as Keira yelled out a warning.

"Arriving!"


	35. Taken

**_Thursday, October 6th, 2016_**

 ** _Southern England_**

The two vehicles approached the house at speed, splashing through the muddy puddles seemingly without a care.

Both were Range Rovers, and both were armoured. They made directly for the house, pulling up sharply directly opposite the front entrance. Doors opened, and men armed with Heckler & Koch G36K assault rifles jumped out. Three men exited each vehicle, leaving the drivers who took the vehicles off down the side of the house. The six men moved swiftly up the decaying wooden steps and through the open front door. Inside, they were met by the masked Drift who escorted the men through into what had once been the main dining room.

Two of the men smiled as they saw two of the room's occupants.

..._...

"Daddy!"

"Grandpa!"

The masked Rigour dived at her grandfather and jumped into his arms while Mary did exactly the same thing; Royal Protocol be damned.

"What are you doing here?" Princess Mary demanded of the Prince as she regained her feet.

"I am here to speak with _Vengeance_ , Mary, and to hear what you have found out for yourself aboard _Caledonia_."

While Drift, Crimson, Scorpion, and Nemesis took seats to one side of the table, while the Prince, Commander Haig, the Princess, and Rigour sat down on the opposite side of the table. Ginny along with the Prince's personal protection officer: Sergeant Pete Hind, and two of Commander Haig's SO15 men stood guard around the walls of the room. The rest of _Vengeance_ guarded the perimeter outside the house. After introductions, the meeting began.

"I understand you named the yacht, Mary," The Prince commented. "Well done."

"Thank you," Mary replied, blushing at the compliment.

"I also understand that you had a brief visit to the Isle of Man," The Prince continued.

"We shot in and out," Crimson commented.

"Quite," the Prince replied dryly. "Mary, your comments?"

"From what I have observed, _Vengeance_ bears no resemblance to the organisation which the Government has seen fit to destroy," Mary began. "Despite being renegades and on the run from the state, they have continued to be the disciplined organisation which has taken down some very bad people. They are not a bunch of psychotic killers as those blowhards in Whitehall suggest. . ."

"Learnt some new terminology I see, Mary?" the Prince commented with a raised eyebrow.

"I believe the term is accurate," Mary said as she blushed badly.

"Unofficially, I might agree," the Prince chuckled. "Please continue."

"They have a strong morality which is unwavering. The teamwork is perfect. Every member of _Vengeance_ plays their part form the youngest _Predator_ to the adults. They do not kill indiscriminately, however, they are at war. Some idiots declared war on _Vengeance_ and now those same idiots are reaping the fallout from that declaration. William Fraser – as I have understood it, he deserved to die. That man tried to hurt kids younger than me. I heard, first hand, about a program called _Urban Predator_. I talked to the victims of _Urban Predator_. I met an eight-year-old girl who was trained to be an assassin and I've witnessed her and her friends at work. I always thought that I had a hard life, but the troubles of my own life are nothing compared to what these boys and girls have endured at the hands of our own government. Rigour here, is one of those youngsters who had their childhoods destroyed by men like William Fraser. I believe that there is something much bigger going on, Daddy. I see this attack on _Vengeance_ as a sideshow, a distraction if you will. Something really big is going down and every one of those bloody idiots in government is too fixated on the hunt for _Vengeance_ on spurious charges that they can't see the bloody truth before their very eyes!"

Mary was steaming with anger by the time she had finished her speech, however, her father was chuckling.

"What's so damn funny?" the angry thirteen-year-old demanded.

"You always were a fiery little girl," the Prince replied. "I'm very proud of you; you accomplished your task with distinction, Mary. Shame about some of the other habits you've picked up, but you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, I suppose. You have come to the exact same conclusion that I have from my own, independent, sources. Commander."

"Indeed, there is a plot brewing. It is getting remarkably difficult to find secure sources to obtain accurate information from. I have been able to identify certain government ministers who have nothing to do with what is going on – however, there are some on their staffs who we believe to be complicit with whatever is going on. The operation to uncover what we believe to be an attempt on the highest sections of government, a coup if you will, has been codenamed: _Tarantula Hawk_. Currently, only those in this room know of that codename and I hope for things to stay that way. My assistant, Sergeant Woodward is currently attempting to track down how far up in the government this traitorous behaviour has reached."

"I may not speak for everyone here," the Prince said in a guarded tone. "But the worst that these people can get is life imprisonment – however, should they meet _Vengeance_ before the proper authorities. . ."

"Of course, your Highness," Drift said coldly.

..._...

Outside in the trees, Ajax stood watch with Polaris.

The two girls were getting bored. It wasn't exactly a warm day, but the combat suits kept them warm as the hours wore on. It was early afternoon and the meeting had been ongoing for over two hours. Polaris was hungry and getting grumpy, however, her discipline kept her brain on track and she was the first to hear engines approaching them – several large diesel engines.

"This is Polaris – we have incoming up the track; multiple vehicles."

 _"Vengeance, stand by!"_ came the radio call from Nemesis as she jumped up from the table, drawing the meeting to a very rapid close.

* * *

 ** _The Prince, the Princess, the Commander, Crimson, Drift, Nemesis, Scorpion, and Rigour_**

Those present in the room drew weapons as the Prince and the Commander were escorted towards the back of the building in the direction of where the vehicles were parked.

 _"Contact, contact, contact!"_

The sound of gunfire could be heard a couple hundred yards away – not a big problem as the vehicles were right. . . The sound of turbines and spinning rotor blades drowned out all other sounds as a helicopter came into the hover, almost immediately behind the house. Think ropes appeared and men dropped out of the helicopter, descending fast to the ground. Within seconds, eight gunmen had cut off their escape route.

"Move!" Rigour ordered as she pushed the Prince away from the exterior wall, her pistol raised and pointed at the impending entry point.

While the Prince appreciated being placed behind somebody in body armour, he recognised the irony that Rigour made a very small human shield. That point was made clear as Crimson took up a position between Rigour and the Prince, while Drift covered his daughter. The Commander received the protection of Scorpion. Nemesis produced a backpack from under the table and she quickly passed out SIG Sauer MPX-K submachine guns and extra magazines to each vigilante present.

"Brought these just in case," she explained as she saw the Commander's raised eyebrow.

"Good thinking, Nemesis!" he commented.

* * *

 ** _Polaris and Ajax, Prowl and Glide, Stripe_**

Out by the main track, Polaris was firing her own MPX-K submachinegun at the three BMW 4x4s which bounced down the track.

Her attention was briefly taken by the sight of the helicopter and the men who were rapid-roping down to the ground in an obvious effort to cut off the escape route for the Prince and Princess. Further up the track, an ambush was prepared with Prowl and Glide manning four strategically placed Claymore mines. As the first BMW X5 sped past, the two girls squeezed the clackers and there was a succession of four loud explosions and the BMW was pounded by the anti-personnel weapons. However, Glide growled as she saw the vehicle continue for a moment, its tyres wrecked, and the bodywork pounded to hell and back as were the windows. Unfortunately, the tyres were run-flats and the bodywork and windows armoured. Nevertheless, the five men inside were suitably stunned by the explosion that they were unable to immediately respond to the attack and were effectively neutralised – but not for long.

The second X5 drove directly at the two girls as they bounded out of cover and they fled, as per the plan, towards the second ambush point where they dived into a carefully prepared pit and the X5 drove directly over their heads before coming under sustained fire from the heavier weapon of Stripe who was firing a .40-calibre Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun. The vehicle drove directly at him but crashed into a tree as the driver found his windscreen turning opaque with all the bullet strikes.

The third X5 moved to provide covering fire for their stalled companions and five men jumped out, pouring covering fire towards Stripe and anybody else within range.

* * *

 ** _Sleuth and Akuma_**

Sleuth steadied his weapon and he held a head in his sight.

The aiming reticule was spot on as he squeezed the trigger of his Heckler and Koch HK241 rifle and death in the shape of a 7.62-millimetre bullet took the head clean off one of the gunmen beside the second X5.

"Target!" Akuma said calmly as she checked the battleground. "Right two-degrees, gunman!"

Sleuth adjusted, and he gently squeezed the trigger again.

"Target!"

* * *

 ** _La Terreaur, Overrun, and Harrier_**

They had one task and one task only.

Should the vehicles be compromised, preventing escape, they were to 'de-compromise' the vehicles. The newbies were very scared, but they were well-drilled, and they were with a veteran. The helicopter had been a rude surprise but not an altogether unexpected one. Two SO15 officers were engaged in a gunfight with four armed men – the remaining four who had descended from the helicopter were entering the house via windows, blasted open by shotgun breaching rounds.

The gunfire from the three masked, miniature vigilantes was very welcome from the perspective of the outnumbered SO15 officers. Under the intensive fire, two of the enemy fell, but one got back up again – he wore body armour. Overrun screamed in horror as she saw one of her bullets strike a man.

"Do that again!" La Terreaur suggested.

Harrier was fixated on the enemy – it was kind of like the games he loved to play on his PlayStation – but real combat was an eye opener as bullets whizzed past and he could feel them, smell them, and hear them.

* * *

 ** _Scourge_**

 ** _Raptor and Chief_**

The enemy helicopter, an Airbus H145 T2 was circling the area seemingly oblivious to the small helicopter which flew just above the trees having been hiding in a clearing a few miles away.

Raptor pointed his command directly at the Airbus and he closed before popping up and . . .

"Holy shit!" Raptor breathed as he pulled _Scourge_ into a hard right turn as another helicopter popped up from a clearing directly into his path.

Raptor had caught sight of the flashes coming from the twin machine gun mounts and the stream of weapons fire followed _Scourge_ as the helicopter fought to avoid being struck. Nobody had expected an attack helicopter – it was another Airbus product, an H145M. It had been a wake-up call which had not been appreciated. The H145M was no match for the MD530F, however, _Scourge_ was flying with a limited weapons wing as she was out in daylight. Needless to say, she was not exactly disarmed as she carried a pair of GAU-19B .50-calibre Gatling heavy machine guns, but no rockets or missiles.

Raptor twisted the helicopter around while Chief kept an eye on the other helicopter as it attempted to get a bead on _Scourge_.

* * *

 ** _The Prince, the Princess, the Commander, Crimson, Drift, Nemesis, Scorpion, and Rigour_**

The explosions as the windows were blasted open had been loud and dust had exploded outwards, covering everything and everyone.

Out of the dust cloud had come four men, with assault rifles to their shoulders. They moved purposely but they did not blanket the room with gunfire – that fact alone indicated that they were a snatch squad. Rigour switched positions and she stuck to the Princess like glue. Crimson, Drift, Nemesis, and Scorpion all opened fire as one, sending the attackers diving for cover.

"We need to move!" Nemesis called out as the attackers returned fire, peppering the walls with neat round holes.

The exit via the door was impossible to make without being gunned down, so, Drift improvised, and he took a leaf out of Kick-Ass' book. With a resounding crash, Drift smashed through the wall behind them and he pulled the Princess and Rigour through with him into the living room. Mary coughed as she tried to empty her lungs of dust and plaster. Her clothing was covered in that same dust and plaster, but she was alive as Rigour pulled her towards the front of the house and hopefully, escape.

 _"Vehicles secured!"_ came La Terreaur's voice over the radio.

Rigour was relieved as she made for the front door, keeping the Princess behind her at all times.

* * *

 ** _Sleuth and Akuma_**

They had been forced to move.

Incoming fire was preventing them from being able to pick targets accurately, so they had both slunk back into the trees and once screened from the gunmen, they made for the vehicles and the house. Things were heating up, fast. Sleuth had tried to gain fire support from _Scourge_ , only to receive a curt, " _Unable!_ " in response. He could hear more than one set of rotor blades which made him worry about what was happening in the skies above him. They had expected an attack – hence they had come prepared, only they had not anticipated helicopter support – but they had come prepared. As they both approached the house, Akuma pointed and she shouted a warning to Sleuth.

"Attention!"

Four men were moving towards the house just as Rigour pushed open the door. The young vigilante instantly came under fire and she retreated back inside.

* * *

 ** _Scourge_**

The MD530F was flying fast, with the H145M close behind.

Bullets whizzed past the attack helicopter as Raptor manoeuvred hard, twisting and turning. About two miles northeast of the meeting, Raptor hauled up on the collective as the other helicopter, the H145 T2, appeared directly ahead of him. The civilian aircraft was not as unarmed as he had believed – the single machine gun mount on the port side flickered as bullets streamed in his direction. Raptor had had enough and he hauled his machine around before briefly pressing the 'guns' button on his cyclic as the H145 T2 came into his heads-up display and the aiming reticule settled on the wildly jinking helicopter.

There was a very satisfying explosion as the twin triple-barrelled GAU-19B .50-calibre Gatling guns spun, sending bullet after bullet into the unprotected airframe before the stream of bullets struck something important. The flaming wreckage of what had once been a £4-million helicopter dropped to the ground below and impacted a large open area, burning furiously. _Scourge_ shuddered for a moment and several dull thuds could be heard from aft as five 7.62-millimetre bullets tore into the fuselage, striking the armoured magazine for the Gatling guns and penetrating the aircraft no further. Raptor again hauled his ride around and he shot upwards for a few thousand feet before he twisted _Scourge_ in three-dimensions and he dove towards the H145M, aiming his guns directly down through the spinning main rotor blades.

Raptor only had time for a three-second burst of gunfire from the twin Gatling guns, but that was plenty of time for fifty rounds to be fired off, sending fifty bullets down the three-foot barrels of _each_ weapon. One hundred .50-calibre rounds plummeted earthwards, passing through the unfortunate enemy helicopter, shredding the main rotor blades and the fuselage, killing the three-man crew instantly, moments before the aircraft exploded in mid-air. Scourge was half a mile away when the machine came apart and well away from any shrapnel.

"Chief – when we get back to base, you are directed to paint two kills aft of the cockpit . . . both sides, please, don't want anybody to miss them!"

* * *

 ** _The house_**

Rigour shoved the Princess backwards and towards the stairs.

"Move!" the girl yelled, and the Princess ran up the stairs, confused about what was going on as bullets followed in their wake.

The Princess found herself shoved into a room where she tripped and crashed down into a cloud of choking dust which enveloped her, adding to the dust that already covered her from head to toe. Rigour began to send short bursts towards the top of the stairs preventing anybody from coming up. Bullets peppered the wall around Rigour, the odd one striking her armour, but the vigilante stood fast, guarding her principal. Then, after a ferocious couple of minutes, the gunfire stopped, and a voice called out.

"You will surrender before you are hurt, your Highness."

"Fuck you!" Crimson yelled in response.

"Your Highness, we need you to come with us, directly," the voice called out again, ignoring Crimson's response.

"I'm terribly sorry, old man, but I have an appointment, later on, so I could not possibly come with you," the Prince replied quickly in a calm voice.

Rigour saw her charge roll her eyes and shake her head.

"We _will_ take you – if necessary, we'll use your daughter as leverage."

"Over my dead body!" Rigour yelled as she lined up a shot and deftly put three rounds in a man's head as he popped out for a look from a room below.

The shooting restarted in earnest as Crimson and Drift gave their own reply to the ultimatum.

* * *

 ** _La Terreaur, Overrun, and Harrier_**

Overrun was running through the mud towards the vehicles.

She fumbled with her magazine, swapping it out for a full replacement. The noise was scaring the youngster, but she was very glad to have Harrier a few feet behind her, covering her back. La Terreaur was a few yards away, monitoring her charges as they fought. One of the SO15 men had reached the closest Range Rover and he was about to pull open the door when Overrun stumbled and she fell headlong into the mud. As she rolled out of the mud, something caught her eye – a flashing LED – it was reflected in the water beneath the same. . .

"Get away – bomb!" the young girl yelled, and the man dived away from the Range Rover, without a moment's hesitation, just as the explosives detonated.

The four-tonne armoured vehicle was lifted two feet off the ground as smoke and flames billowed out from underneath. Harrier and La Terreaur were thrown backwards away from the blast, both landing in a heap a few yards away. The SO15 man raised his hand and he grinned at Overrun as he rolled over and began to check out the underside of the surviving Range Rover which had been peppered with shrapnel from its twin. The explosion had also blasted a hole in the side of the old house, sending wood, brickwork, and plaster falling inside and out.

The explosion had also produced an escape route which allowed the Prince to be unceremoniously thrust outside by Drift and Nemesis whilst Scorpion and Crimson covered their escape, firing into the approaching enemy who were just recovering from the explosion.

"My daughter," the Prince asked.

"She's with Rigour, your Highness," Nemesis advised him. "She'll be fine."

"Of course."

The surviving Range Rover began to move, and it edged closer through the mud and past the remains of its disabled twin and the rubble form the building. Nemesis yanked open the rear door the moment it came close and the Prince was shoved inside by the remaining SO15 officer who followed behind while the Commander jumped into the front passenger seat.

"Go!" Nemesis yelled as she slammed the door.

* * *

 ** _Prowl and Glide, Stripe_**

One of the damaged BMW X5s was moving again and as it closed, it appeared impervious to their bullets.

The vehicle bounced through the mud, water spraying up as it zigzagged to avoid the worst of the incoming gunfire. Prowl and Glide had been warned to provide covering fire for the Range Rover which was making a mad dash from behind the house, towards the track away from the combat zone. The X5 raced forwards, making for the very same track in what looked like a blocking move. Stripe fired his heavier rounds at the BMW, but the vehicle ignored the strikes as it came around parallel to the Range Rover, both vehicles plunging through the muddy puddles. It was not long before the two vehicles collided with a loud crunching sound as armour crunched armour. The Range Rover was forced away from the track and the relative safety which it would provide.

The driver of the luxury vehicle accelerated through the mud taking full advantage of the Range Rover's superior off-roading capabilities while the BMW trailed behind.

* * *

 ** _Rigour and the Princess_**

The two girls were caught upstairs when the explosion shattered the gable end of the building.

Dust exploded from the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Mary used the arm of her jacket to cover her mouth and nose while Rigour checked out the way down – the staircase, attached in part to the gable end, had collapsed into the entrance hall below. Both girls edged around the landing, looking for another way down but their route was blocked by wreckage and neither were strong enough to move the blockage.

"You up for some fun?" Rigour asked her friend.

"Why, the bloody hell, not!" Princess Mary replied with a grin, placing her life into her guardian's hands.

"This might get a little rough. . ." Rigour stated before she threw herself over the remains of the bannister and dropped to the entrance hall below.

The armour-clad vigilante landed in a small gap between sections of wreckage and she quickly came up shooting. Two men fell to her bullets before the remainder shrank back into cover. Then two more jumped out of the wreckage and attacked Rigour. From above, the Princess had an amazing viewpoint. Rigour moved faster than Mary had ever thought possible, spinning and kicking out, catching both men by surprise with her agility. The violent kicking was only Rigour's opening performance as she jumped up onto a heap of broken wood and she landed on the shoulders of the closest man. The man tried to grab the girl, but his throat was slashed through before he could raise his arms. His colleague faired little better as Rigour drove her knife into his left eye.

"Well, are you coming down, or not?" Rigour demanded as she looked upwards at Mary.

"Err, yeah. . ." the Princess replied as she used her own agility to drop safely from the first floor.

"Will you two stop playing!" Scorpion growled from the front door.

"I _never_ play!" Rigour growled as she seized Mary's arm and pulled her outside.

..._...

While all attentions were on the rapidly moving Range Rover as it danced with the devil in the X5, the remainder of the team at the house, including the Princess, all boarded the Audi Q7s once a check had been made for any more explosive surprises. Once loaded, all three vehicles made for the Range Rover and the BMW X5 where the two vehicles pirouetted around one another as the Range Rover made an intense effort to escape.

Then things began to move very quickly and in a totally unexpected direction.

* * *

 ** _Polaris and Ajax_**

The BMW X5 which had earlier struck a tree had been worked free and it was reversing back into play.

It was reasonable to expect that the vehicle would high-tail it out of the area, considering its damaged state, but now, it made for the two girls who dived out of the way at the last moment into the mud as the vehicle sped past. They thought they were safe as they struggled back to their feet but then they caught a terse warning in their earpieces warning them to watch out. Only the warning was not in time. Polaris never saw the man as he came up behind her and he grabbed the girl around the torso. She squirmed, and she screamed out as she fought back, but the man's grip was like iron and she did not have anything like the strength required to fight the man off.

Ajax ran forwards, but she was punched in the face for her trouble. Despite that, she fought back gallantly while attempting to help her friend escape. Prowl and Glide were running over, slipping in the mud as the damaged X5 slid to a halt beside Polaris, knocking Ajax to the ground. Polaris realised that she could not escape, and that single realisation sent a wave of fear flooding through her body as she was thrust into the vehicle. Just as the door was closing on her, she yelled out in borderline hysteria.

 _"HELP ME!"_

..._...

Prowl and Glide dove into action, the older girl grabbing Ajax and pulling her clear of the BMWs tyres before she was run down while Glide pulled her pistol and jumped onto the vehicle's bonnet, firing bullets into the windscreen, peppering it with chips and cracks but not penetrating.

The BMW surged forwards, throwing Glide into the windscreen and knocking the pistol from her hand. The pistol skittered across the bonnet and vanished over the side into the mud. Glide grabbed hold of the windscreen wipers and she held on for dear life as the vehicle slithered and swerved. Glide lost her grip and she was thrown through the air as the vehicle struck a rut and she came down into some mud before she rolled into a large pool of water from where she did not show any sign of further movement. Prowl fired off the remains of her SIG magazine before pulling her pistol and sending a dozen bullets after the fleeing BMW which was quickly joined by its partner and both raced off down the track.

The second BMW had broken off its assault on the Range Rover after the three Audi Q7s had laagered around the Prince's ride and prevented any further assault by the BMW and its unknown gunmen. Nonetheless, all four vehicles took off in pursuit of the fleeing enemy who had taken one of their own, the moment everybody was aboard – there had been a slight delay while an unconscious Glide had been scooped out of her puddle by Stripe. However, as they stormed off down the track in pursuit, the front Audi very quickly ran into trouble. The Audi's route was blocked by a Dorset Police BMW estate which cut across its path. Nemesis instinctively stomped on the brakes, slithering the large vehicle to a halt on the muddy track at the same time as she leaned on the horn in frustration.

The BMW with Polaris was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

 ** _A little over two hours later_**

 ** _Caledonia_**

Not surprisingly, Keira was beside herself with both anger and worry.

There had been a very tense standoff with the Police before Commander Haig and the Prince had stepped in to disarm the situation before anybody else was hurt. The Police had allowed the small convoy to proceed, unmolested, away from the scene. High above, _Scourge_ was attempting to track the fleeing BMWs but they had seemingly vanished and they were not seen again. The moment everybody was aboard, the _Caledonia_ had cast off her moorings and she had headed out to sea before the authorities decided it was a good idea to prevent their departure. Everyone aboard was stunned by what had occurred. Yes, they had prevented the kidnapping, or worse, of the Prince and his daughter, but in doing so, they had lost one of their own. Nobody had the faintest idea who had taken Harper, where she was being taken, nor if she was even still alive. The mood was sombre as everybody changed out of their muddy combat suits and there were many tears and muttered comments. There was anger too which festered until Natasha eventually voiced what everybody was thinking.

"Why do we keep being found?" Natasha demanded to nobody in particular as she entered the galley after showering.

"We have a traitor amongst us," Keira commented darkly, her eyes red from crying.

"Well it won't be a _Predator_ ," Craig stated angrily. "It has to be one of the newbies."

Everybody turned to face Olivia, Jessica, Christopher, and Jeremy.

"No way!" Jeremy exclaimed.

"I tried to help her," Olivia pointed out, worried about the way things were going.

"She did," Naomi confirmed, her own eyes red with tears – both for Harper and for Kaitlin who was lying unconscious in a bunk, below.

"We would never knowingly betray any of you," Jessica stated and Christopher nodded.

"Let's go find out," Craig suggested darkly as he headed forward and below, followed by the others.

..._...

First, Craig went through the personal affects and clothing which belonged to Christopher and Jeremy.

He made quite a mess as he went, and he was very angry to find nothing which pointed to either of them being an obvious traitor. No secret listening or transmitting devices – not that any traitor would be stupid enough to keep something incriminating amongst their own possessions, Craig knew. Jasper and Lynn had made their own feelings felt but Natasha had suggested that they keep out of it. After Craig was certain that he had missed nothing in the boy's cabins – he had even made both boys strip naked, so he could check the clothing they wore while Naomi had coldly watched, a pistol in her hand – he headed back aft.

Once in the cabin where Olivia and her sister, Jessica, slept, Craig went to town again. He pulled everything out, going through each item of clothing – bras, knickers, trousers, T-shirts – everything was thoroughly checked, much to the girls' humiliation at the sight of their underwear being handled so callously by a boy. It was only when Craig began to go through Olivia's personal effects that he found something of interest and he grinned dangerously.

"What have we here?" Craig asked rhetorically, then he looked closer at the item he had found. "What – the – fuck!"

Craig turned on Olivia, his facial expression such that Olivia stepped back away from the boy in fear for her life.

 _"Traitor!"_

* * *

VENGEANCE

END OF PART ONE


	36. Traitor

**PREVIOUSLY  
ON  
VENGEANCE**

 ** _Thursday, October 6th, 2016_**

 ** _Southern England_**

The BMW surged forwards, throwing Glide into the windscreen and knocking the pistol from her hand. The pistol skittered across the bonnet and vanished over the side into the mud. Glide grabbed hold of the windscreen wipers and she held on for dear life as the vehicle slithered and swerved. Glide lost her grip and she was thrown through the air as the vehicle struck a rut and she came down into some mud before she rolled into a large pool of water from where she did not show any sign of further movement.

* * *

 ** _Off the coast of Southern England_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

It was only when Craig began to go through Olivia's personal effects that he found something of interest and he grinned dangerously.

"What have we here?" Craig asked rhetorically, then he looked closer at the item he had found. "What – the – fuck!"

Craig turned on Olivia, his facial expression such that Olivia stepped back, away from the boy, in fear for her life.

 _"Traitor!"_

* * *

 **VENGEANCE**

 **PART II**

 ** _Friday, October 7th, 2016_**

 ** _Saint Helier, Jersey  
The Channel Islands_**

Keira Sharp stood staring out at St Aubin's Bay.

She had been standing there for two hours, shivering in the cold breeze that blew in from the southwest. She was angry. She was scared. She was alone. Her sister was gone. Her sister had been taken, just as she had once before. Was she alive? Was she suffering? So many questions which nobody had answers to. Keira had left the yacht, almost the moment she had been moored.

Deep inside, Keira wanted to kill the girl who had betrayed them all. More importantly, she wanted to kill the girl who had cost her Harper.

..._...

"Keira."

"Keira."

" _Keira_!"

Keira jumped as reality called and she turned to see her friend standing a few feet away. Sarah Perrin grinned, if only to show her friend support. She remembered the happiness a little over four months previously when Keira had returned to their shared cabin, a signal in her hand. Sarah could remember the tears of joy and the simple comment: "Harper – my sister . . . she's alive!"

Now, all that happiness had gone up in smoke – all because of one stupid girl. For Sarah, the whole _Vengeance_ thing was still a novelty – at least it had been until a nine-year-old girl had been taken and two members of the Royal Family had suddenly come under attack. The whole affair was freaking nuts! Sarah would do everything that she could to help her friend, but what could they do?

"Hey, Sarah!"

..._...

Cassie came bounding up, full of energy.

"I want you both to come with me, if you please."

Sarah chuckled.

"Very formal, Cassandra."

The glare from Cassie had no effect on Sarah, not one bit. Cassie hated _anybody_ using her given name and her big sister knew it. Cassie led the way and they made for the Radisson Blu Waterfront Hotel a few yards away. Cassie headed inside into blissful warmth, leading her sister and Keira into a comfortable lounge and towards where four people sat on a pair of couches. Cassie pushed her sister into another couch and waved Keira to sit down before she herself sat in a chair.

"Hello, Cassie, good to see you again."

"Jason."

"Hi, Cassie."

"Nicky. Jason, Nicky, please meet my sister, Sarah, and our friend, Keira Sharp. Sarah, Keira, please meet Jason and Nicky Bourne."

After the introductions were exchanged, two loud coughs were heard, and everybody turned to look at the two youngsters sitting on a couch.

"Hi," said the boy.

"His name is Timothy. . ." said the girl.

"Tim!" the boy snapped back. " _Her_ name is Nats."

"God! You are _so_ annoying!" the girl replied snarkily. "I prefer: Natalie."

"Hello, Tim. Hello, Natalie," Cassie said.

Further introductions were exchanged.

"I understand things have taken a turn for the worse," Jason commented. "Mindy was not very specific in her phone call for obvious reasons."

"Keira's younger sister – a _Predator_ , by the way – was taken yesterday during an attempt on Prince Robert and his daughter," Cassie explained, and she saw eyes darken, especially those of the two young _Predators_ present.

"I have to thank you for helping to recover my sister," Keira said. "I have heard about your part in the Toulouse operation."

"I had to help make things right. The program was based on me, just as much as it was based on Mindy," Jason explained.

"Still – without you and the others who took part, I might never have seen my Harper again."

"Let's go see what we can do to help," Nicky suggested.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

Olivia Kensington was totally miserable.

After Craig had rooted through her personal possessions and discovered the mobile phone, her feet had barely touched the deck as she was seized by Cassie. Olivia found herself being stripped naked, her hands bound with duct tape, and a black bag pulled over her head. Kaitlin and Naomi were ordered forward and a few minutes later, she was dragged up a deck, forward, and then down a deck before being thrown into one of the bow cabins. She then heard the door slammed shut and locked. Then she had heard Craig's voice.

"She tries to escape, kill her," he ordered.

She had lain on the deck sobbing for an unknown amount of time as the yacht had continued on its voyage. Olivia was angry, confused, humiliated. So many emotions, none of which helped her understand what was going on – why had everybody turned on her? Yes, she had had a mobile phone, but she rarely used it – just to text some friends. She had turned it off after each use, so what was the problem?

What was going to happen to her?

* * *

"What are you doing to my sister?"

"She's a traitor, Jessica – are you?" Naomi growled angrily.

"No, I'm not and neither is she," Jessica retorted, just as angrily. "So, she had a mobile – what's the big deal?"

"Because you can track a mobile phone, even when it is turned off, you dumb bitch!" Kaitlin explained.

"But . . . Olivia would never betray any of you."

"There is a slim chance that she's just as stupid as you, yes," Naomi replied. "But, until we can be absolutely sure, she stays locked up."

"How can we be sure?" Cassie asked.

"I don't know. There has to be more to all this," Jasper chipped in.

He was angry that his step-daughter was implicated in the abduction of Harper, but both he and his wife knew that there was something off, just not what, and for the moment, Olivia was safer locked up – for their safety as well as for hers.

If they could prove her innocence, then all was well . . . if not . . .

* * *

Craig volunteered to question Olivia.

He had two motivations. She had betrayed them all, but for him, she had betrayed his heart. As far as he had been concerned, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and despite having seen many girls naked as a _Predator_ , his first time seeing her naked while she was stripped that afternoon had proved to him that she was also the most beautiful when naked, too. He had been dismayed that the first time seeing her naked had been under such circumstances – he had wanted it to be special. He was angry, very angry, as he made his way forward, with Mary beside him. Craig had insisted that she come along as an objective witness. For Mary, Olivia's behaviour was the reason behind her and her father almost being kidnapped . . . or worse. It had been a shock to see her friend hauled stark naked through the main deck with her hands bound behind her back and a hood over her head.

Whilst Olivia was her friend, Mary was undecided as to her guilt, but she knew that her position as a relative outsider in _Vengeance_ allowed her a different perspective.

..._...

As Craig and Mary approached, Kaitlin unlocked the door to the cabin and she pushed it open.

Olivia lay on the floor of the cabin, naked as the day she was born – except for the black hood and the tape around her wrists. She was shaking, and her head had turned towards the sound of the door opening. Craig yanked off the hood and he was shocked at the sight of the thirteen-year-old girl. Her body was perfect, but her face was streaked with tears and her hair was a mess.

"Why did you do it?" Craig asked in as even a voice as he could manage.

"It was just a few texts – I had no idea I was doing any harm. I turned the phone off . . . I thought that would be enough."

"Well, it wasn't!" Craig yelled. "Are you just moronic or incredibly stupid?"

Olivia burst into tears, sobbing violently.

"I didn't mean it, I promise, I swear on my sister's life," Olivia begged. "I am not a traitor . . . I just made a mistake."

"A mistake that almost got people killed and one of our number kidnapped," Craig shouted back. "You really are fucking worthless, Kensington!"

"Please, believe me . . ."

Mary's heart went out to the girl – she was in one hell of a state. She finally came to a decision and she grasped Craig's arm and pointed outside the cabin. Craig glared at the sobbing girl as he left the cabin and Kaitlin slammed the door shut, locking it. The sobs beyond the cabin door got louder as the girl wallowed in her own despair.

"I think she's telling the truth," Mary said. "She's either a very good liar or she's scared to death."

"I hate to admit it, but I agree," Craig said as Jason appeared.

"I agree, too," he said as they strode back up to the main deck.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Saturday, October 8th_**

 ** _Counter Terrorism Command Headquarters_**

 ** _London, England_**

Sergeant Woodward walked into her boss' office.

"Good morning, Sergeant," Commander Haig said in welcome.

"Sir, you've received a videotape, in the post."

"Oh? Didn't know anybody still used the things. Is it clean?"

"As far as we can tell, yes, sir."

A few minutes later, Sergeant Woodward had found a TV and a VCR to play the tape. She pressed play and they both stared at the TV screen.

"Oh, my God!" the sergeant exclaimed.

"Get that tape converted into something digital and keep it quiet," Commander Haig ordered, his face very pale.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

Eric called the senior staff to the Command Centre around ten that morning.

"I received an encrypted email from Commander Haig, this morning," he said as everybody squeezed in. "The Commander said that the attached video was very graphic and was 'proof of life'."

"Harper?" Keira asked tentatively.

"Yes," Eric replied.

"Put it up," Cameron directed.

Keira was shaking before the first minute was over – it was only a little over two minutes long, but it was beyond harrowing. Natasha and Sarah were holding Keira tightly for support by the end and she was in acute distress. Nobody spoke for several minutes at the end of the short video.

"I think everybody needs to see this," Jasper commented.

"It'll be very hard on the kids," Lynn warned.

"They need to see it," Keira agreed.

"I'll set it up," Eric promised.

"And I want that bitch to see it, to see what she has done," Keira growled with barely contained anger.

..._...

"This is going to be harrowing, but we think that you all need to see it."

"See what?" Kaitlin asked.

"It's a 'proof of life' video we received this morning," Cassie explained.

"Harper?" Kaitlin ventured.

Cassie nodded before she turned to Mary.

"Mary, please go get Olivia. You may remove her restraints and give her some clothing. Bring her up here and sit her in a chair, please."

Mary went below, and she grabbed up some of Olivia's discarded clothing before she headed forward.

"You can head aft, Naomi," Mary directed the youngster on guard duty as she unlocked the cabin door.

Olivia was slumped against the bunk; her tears had stopped but she looked thoroughly miserable. Yvette and Marinette had visited Olivia the previous evening and they had fed the girl. They had also helped her use the toilet in her bound state. So far that morning, nobody had visited her apart from to check that she was still alive.

"Stand up!" Mary directed the naked girl.

Despite Olivia being innocent of treason and only guilty of being stupid, Mary was angry at the risks everybody had been put under. Olivia followed instructions, standing up but not looking Mary in the eye. Instead, Olivia just stared down at the floor. Mary produced a knife and she cut the tape from around Olivia's wrists.

"Look at me," Mary directed.

Olivia forced herself to look her friend in the face, but it was almost impossible due to the unbearable humiliation and shame which she felt.

"I am going to give you some clothes and then we are going to head aft. You will sit where I put you and you will not talk or look at anybody – you understand me?"

Olivia nodded as tears began to fall down her cheeks again. Mary handed her a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, nothing else. Olivia struggled to pull the clothing on, but she needed help from Mary who felt compassion towards the girl despite her actions. Mary held Olivia by the upper left arm and she marched her friend aft.

..._...

Olivia felt angry eyes following her every move as she entered the deck and she feared for her life.

She kept her eyes to the floor and she allowed herself to be guided into a vacant chair, well away from pretty much everybody. Then the video began, and Olivia's eyes went wide. She could not watch it and she put her head in her hands. That lasted mere seconds as a pair of hands grabbed her head.

"Watch!" Craig growled as he forced Olivia to look up at the TV screen.

* * *

Harper stared up at the camera.

She was wearing a T-shirt and underwear, nothing else. Her skin was dirty, as was the clothing she wore. Her face was streaked with tears and she appeared tired and strained. Her eyes were dark but there was still some fire left in the girl. She looked very dishevelled after barely twenty-four-hours captivity, however, she appeared defiant as she knelt on the floor

"Is this what you want, dickhead?" Harper called out.

Then the nine-year-old screamed and fell back as she was struck violently around the head by a large hand from off camera. Harper got back onto her knees and she held up a copy of the previous day's Daily Telegraph with her right hand. Her left appeared to be out of sight, held up against her chest.

"Tell them how much fun you are having, Harper," a cultured male voice directed from off camera.

"Fuck you!" Harper yelled back.

"You are not learning, are you, Harper."

With that Harper was pinned down by a large woman who appeared from the side, her face turned away from the camera. Harper struggled violently, then she screamed out as somebody else grasped her left hand which was red and swollen.

" _NO!_ "

The yell was full of fear and distress. Then came the sound of cracking and the yacht was filled with the sound of screaming as two of the four fingers on Harper's left hand were broken at the second knuckles. The young girl fought and screamed for a little longer before she passed out from the incredible pain. Harper was left lying on her side, her left hand swelling up even more, but she was still breathing, tears streaming down her red face.

"As you can see, she is not in prime condition, but then she _has_ been rather difficult and not forthcoming with the answers which we have requested. I will give her one compliment, though – her training _is_ impressive as she has not broken . . . but we are working on that," the cultured voice commented. " _Vengeance_ will cease all of its activities. Every member will hand themselves in to the nearest police station where they will be arrested. Should that happen, then young Harper shall be released more or less in one piece. If not, then she dies. You have seventy-two hours as of noon. Good day."

The video faded to black.

* * *

As the video finished, there was total silence aboard the yacht.

Then Kaitlin stood up and she turned towards Olivia. The teenager began to shake as Kaitlin came closer. Behind Kaitlin, Naomi followed, her expression full of murderous thoughts, just like her younger cousin. Jessica moved forwards, but Kaitlin punched her in the face, sending the eleven-year-old to the deck, blood pouring from her nose.

"Leave her alone!" Jessica called out through her tears of pain.

"She needs to suffer," Kaitlin growled. "I am going to make her suffer, just like Harper has suffered. First, we're going to break her fingers."

Kaitlin reached out for Olivia's left hand but then she found herself yanked into the air and dropped onto a couch.

"None of you will touch that girl."

Everybody turned to face who had spoken and they were very surprised to find that it was Keira, of all people, who had come to the defence of Olivia. Keira moved to stand directly in front of the cowering, sobbing, thirteen-year-old.

"Anybody touches Olivia, they answer to me. She may have unwittingly fucked us all up and caused Harper to be taken, but I can see the remorse in her and I know that Harper would not want Olivia to be hurt in retaliation. My sister is enduring the worst pain conceivable, and we are more interested in hurting ourselves. We have less than three days to find Harper – so, let's get to work. Kaitlin, take Jessica below and clean her up – touch her and I will break you. Mary, help Olivia below so we can get her cleaned up."

Keira glared at everybody present, then her command voice echoed around deck.

"Olivia has suffered enough. I want everybody to be crystal clear on that. She is part of this crew and a part of _Vengeance_. Anybody treats her as anything less and I will break them."

With that comment, Keira followed Mary and Olivia below.

* * *

Olivia sobbed non-stop as Mary helped her undress before she was then pushed into the warm water where she slumped to the tiled floor of the shower, still sobbing.

Keira sat on the bathroom floor with her head in her hands. She had so much to think about. Mary hesitated for a minute but then she stripped off and she joined Olivia in the shower, forcing the girl to her feet and handing her some soap while Mary washed Olivia's hair.

"I don't blame you, Olivia. I wanted you to pay for what you did, but I watched your face while that video was played, and I saw the horror as Craig made you watch every moment."

"I am so very sorry, Keira," Olivia said in between continued sobbing.

"You are just a silly girl who made a mistake. You are not like Harper, Kaitlin, or the rest – you never went through any of that. You have not had rules and directions slapped into you by some nameless instructor intent on turning you into a cold assassin. You have no idea about the world in which you have been plunged. You were dragged out of school and forced to leave your home. You discovered the world of the vigilante and you had no idea how serious life in _Vengeance_ was."

Olivia stepped out of the shower, taking the towel offered by Keira. Mary followed picking up another towel. They both sat down on the bed in the adjoining cabin. Olivia looked over at Keira as she sat down beside them.

"I try so hard to be part of the team but all I do is fuck up. I fucked up during the assault on the house and now I've put everybody at risk because of something which I should have known."

"None of us are perfect, Olivia – least of all me," Kaitlin offered as she entered the cabin with Naomi and Craig.

"I pushed you too far, too fast," Craig offered. "I hope we can still be friends, despite the things I said to you."

"Words can't hurt me," Olivia said. "But I still have a lot to prove to all of you. I may not be a _Predator_ – and to be brutally honest, I'm glad that I am not – but I can be a vigilante . . . with . . . with the help of all of you."

"We can help you, Olivia," Craig said. "And you have our trust."

* * *

 ** _Later that evening_**

They departed Jersey that afternoon, around two.

 _"You have seventy-two hours. . ."_

The phrase echoed within Keira's mind constantly as she periodically checked her watch. There were less than seventy of those hours remaining and Harper's life expectancy was quite literally ticking down to oblivion. They knew that Harper was in the UK, so that was to be their destination. An hour before departure, they had received an encrypted email from Commander Haig directing them to make for the east coast of the Isle of Wight and a rendezvous.

What they would find, on their arrival, they had no idea.

* * *

 ** _26nm south of Swanage, United Kingdom  
Position: 50.1607° N 1.9947° W  
Course: 011°, Speed: 14 knots, 670.8nm logged_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

 ** _1846 hours_**

They still had another three or so hours to go.

Despite certain comediennes best efforts, smiles were few and far between. They were on a mission, only, they had the desired result – the successful rescue of Harper – but not the when, where, or the how. The unknowing was what was killing everyone. They all wanted Harper back – in one piece. The video had been shocking to them all, but to actually witness Harper being tortured . . . that was bad, even for the _Predators_.

All those not on watch tried to sleep, but sleep was not quick in coming.

* * *

 ** _HMS TRIUMPH, ROYAL NAVY  
TRAFALGAR CLASS SUBMARINE_**

As the nuclear-powered hunter-killer submarine moved through the English Channel at a little over a hundred feet beneath the surface, Commander Jimmy Adams Royal Navy paced the limited space available in the control room.

"Revolutions three zero, six up, keep twenty-one metres . . . up scope!"

As the submarine gently planed up to periscope depth, the Commander was unable to see very much until the head of the periscope broke the surface of the water, but his target was visible, hull-down about four thousand yards distant, slightly off to starboard. There were numerous contacts held on the plot, most of which were merchant vessels plying their trade up the English Channel. Others were private yachts, one of which was about five thousand yards to starboard.

"Down scope!"

"Captain, sir!"

The Commander turned from the lowering periscope to find one of his Communications and Information Systems Specialists waiting to report.

"Sir, we're receiving that signal again – strong."

"OOW, call the WEO."

Less than a minute later, a lieutenant entered the control room and reported to his Captain.

"WEO, we have a strange signal being received irregularly – currently, it is strong; any ideas?"

"Frequency?" the WEO asked of the communications specialist.

"2.45GHz, sir."

"UHF, eh? Could be an RFID – supercharged – but still an RFID."

The captain picked up a phone and he called the communications room. The radio ESM mast was still above the surface, hoovering up signals.

"Current bearing for that signal?"

"Green 017, sir."

"Plot, what do we have at 017?" the duty Warfare Specialist Tactical reported.

"Sir, we hold contact Sierra 36 on that bearing – the _Caledonia_ , sir."

"You certain?"

"Yes, sir – the _Caledonia_ , sir."

"Can we jam it?"

"Yes, sir, but we will need to radiate and expose ourselves."

"Do it – keep the ESM and ECM masts raised."

..._...

Barely twenty minutes later, the Commander was awoken by the tannoy.

 _"Captain to the control room!"_

Commander Adams bolted from his bunk and he was in the control room less than twelve seconds later.

"Report!"

"Sonar has gunfire, bearing 015, sir!" the Officer of the Watch reported.

"Up scope!"

After a quick sweep of the horizon around the submarine, the Commander focussed on the relevant bearing.

"I think the _Caledonia_ requires a little assistance," he commented as he studied the scene before him.

After the six-second peek above the surface, the periscope slid down into its stowage at a hand signal from the officer.

"Standby to surface! Gun crews to the bridge!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

The yacht bearing down on them was larger than CALEDONIA and painted in a dark red hue.

There was no challenge, just machinegun fire which came as a rude awakening to the watch on the bridge. Sarah was on watch and she triggered the Action Stations alarm. The bridge/deck watch, consisting of Natasha, Cassie, Kaitlin, Jeremy, and Yvette jumped to life. Natasha with Kaitlin mounted a 7.62-mm GPMG to port while Cassie with Jeremy mounted an identical weapon to starboard. Yvette remained on the helm under the command of Sarah.

"All engines ahead full, steer course zero-five-three!" Sarah ordered.

"All engines ahead full, steer course zero-five-three!" Yvette repeated dutifully as she set the speed controls to full and altered the helm to starboard.

The twin MTU 12V 4000 series M93L 51.7-litre marine diesel engines increased their output with a loud roar as they sucked in more and more air, building up the 7,000-horsepower required by the bridge. The twin shafts spun at high speed, churning the wake into a white maelstrom of heaving water as the 260-ton vessel surged forwards, increasing speed from fourteen knots to thirty plus in mere minutes.

Sarah checked the starboard beam to find a larger yacht, flying the French Tricolour closing fast, tracer rounds striving to strike the pristine hull of CALEDONIA. Then her attentions were attracted to a churning maelstrom of water midway between the two vessels and something huge, black, and menacing heaved itself out of the water. Five thousand tons of submarine heaved itself to the surface, shedding the tons of water from its hull as men appeared atop the conning tower and a White Ensign broke from a short mast. Weapons were seen to be mounted on either side of the submarine's bridge.

 _"French vessel, French vessel. This is British submarine off your port bow. You have opened fire on a British vessel under our protection. You are directed to desist, or you will be fired upon."_

The incoming gunfire ceased, as the radio message was repeated twice more before the incoming yacht turned away and picked up a course for France to the south.

..._...

"How the hell did they find us?" Cassie demanded.

Sarah ordered the weapons unshipped and returned to their stowage, pleased that they had not been required. The submarine was still on the surface and was moving on an intercept course. Sarah had reduced speed back to fourteen knots, but then dropped back further to eight knots as the submarine came onto a parallel course and an officer with a megaphone called across.

 _"Ahoy, Caledonia. Any injuries?"_

Sarah pulled out a megaphone of her own.

"Negative."

 _"Any damage?"_

"Negative."

 _"You have a tracker aboard. Make a search on two point four five Gigahertz. Do you have a suitable scanner?"_

Eric nodded at Sarah.

"Affirmative."

 _"Good luck – we will be nearby."_

With that, the submarine altered course away from _CALEDONIA_. The weapons, ensign, and men vanished as plumes of spray appeared from the upper hull and the submarine began to dive below the waters of the English Channel.

..._...

Below decks, Eric was making adjustments to a security scanner, one of several they had aboard.

Once ready, Eric began moving from compartment to compartment, scanning for the 2.45GHz signal. He found traces on the main deck and he stopped when the signal was strongest. He looked up to see a very white Olivia Kensington.

"No. Not me. Please."

The girl was hysterical, and she sank to the deck crying. Craig was horrified by Eric's expression and the fact that the search had zeroed in on Olivia.

"Is the tracker _inside_ her?" Craig asked. "We checked her fully – Naomi did a full cavity search."

Jasper began to chuckle.

"What's so damn funny?" Craig growled.

"The clever bastards. A technique to get past security checks. You bury a device inside an existing wound – nobody would think twice about the scar."

"You mean we'll need to dig it out?" Craig asked.

"No!" Jessica yelled as she ran towards her sister.

Olivia just fainted at the suggestion.

..._...

Thirty minutes later, Eric was examining the slightly bloody device which was residing within a Faraday bag.

A few feet away, Lynn was busy closing up the scar on Olivia's stomach, just above her groin. Lynn had operated under a general anaesthetic, cutting open the appendectomy scar on the girl's right side and digging around inside before producing a slim card, a little bigger than a large SIM card, maybe a little thicker. The device's signal was effectively blocked by the Faraday bag and Eric had scanned everybody aboard to ensure that nobody else had an embedded transmitter. They had double-checked Jessica's own scars, just to be on the safe side. Olivia awoke about ten minutes later, feeling very groggy.

"It's over, Olivia," Craig said as he held the girl's hand. "You're safe – we all are."

* * *

 ** _4.5nm southeast of Sandown, Isle of Wight  
Position: 50.6022° N 1.0656° W  
Course: 023°, Speed: 6 knots, 714.9nm logged_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

 ** _2100 hours_**

They came aboard from a small inflatable after a challenge was satisfied.

Cassie and Jasper met the man and woman on the portside and led them into the empty main cabin. The two adults unbundled before introductions began.

"I am Debbie Grey, and this is my colleague, Jack Foster – we're Five."

"I never did return your pistol," Cassie chuckled as she shook hands with Debbie.

"Hope you didn't get in too much trouble for the bullet in your CCTV equipment?" Jasper added a she shook hands with Jack Foster.

"Took a lot of explaining and enough paperwork to sink a battleship, but we muddled through," Jack conceded with a smile.

"Is Keira about?" Debbie asked.

Keira stepped out of the shadows from forward, a pistol in her hands. Debbie looked directly at her.

"We know where your sister is."


	37. Hell

**PREVIOUSLY  
ON  
VENGEANCE**

 ** _Thursday, October 6th, 2016_**

 ** _Southern England_**

Ajax ran forwards, but she was punched in the face for her trouble.

Despite that, she fought back gallantly while attempting to help her friend escape. Prowl and Glide were running over, slipping in the mud as the damaged X5 slid to a halt beside Polaris, knocking Ajax to the ground. Polaris realised that she could not escape, and that single realisation sent a wave of fear flooding through her body as she was thrust into the vehicle. Just as the door was closing on her, she yelled out in borderline hysteria.

 _"HELP ME!"_

* * *

 ** _Friday, October 7th, 2016_**

 ** _An unknown location  
Somewhere in the United Kingdom_**

"Wakey, wakey, you scratty little bitch!"

Harper snapped awake in an instant and she sat up, or she tried to, her head hurt. She lay back on what appeared to be a bare mattress. She looked around and into the eyes of a ferocious looking girl who must have been in her late teens. The ten-year-old struggled to remember where she was and why she was there. It took only a second to realise that her combat suit was gone, and she wore only a T-shirt and her boy-shorts.

Then she remembered the trip back in the BMW 4x4.

...+...

"Glad you could join us," a voice had chuckled as the vehicle had bounced around savagely in its efforts to escape.

Bullets were striking the windscreen and Polaris could see Glide attempting to shoot out the armoured glazing – it was futile, Polaris knew. She also knew that the team would protect the Prince and the Princess over one of their own. She felt the fear inside her and the loss of control over her life.

"You have no idea _who_ you've pissed off!" she growled through her electronic sound synthesizer which disguised her voice.

"Enough of that shit," a voice declared, and Polaris was shocked to find her mask being yanked off her head. "Shock? You're wondering why I wasn't jolted by a surge of electricity."

The man was right, Harper _was_ shocked.

"We know your little tricks – we know what you are. Okay, I shall explain," the man said as he held up a gloved hand. "Rubber glove and an over-glove with metal thread embedded throughout – I'm earthed, you little fuck."

"You have no idea. . ."

"Yeah, I know – bit younger than I thought."

"You going to rape me?" Harper asked, a little worried at the potential response.

The man laughed, a deep belly laugh.

"You are way too young, lassie – maybe in another twelve years. . ."

"In twelve minutes, you will be dead," Harper responded with all the menace she could muster.

"You are getting tiresome, young lady."

Harper braced up as she felt something sharp pushed against her neck and then . . . oblivion.

...+...

Harper then realised that her hands were secured in front of her – plastic zip-ties _and_ rigid cuffs.

"Guess you're not taking any chances, huh?" Harper tried as she stood up.

The smack was both loud and very, very painful. Harper fell to the floor, her head reeling from the impact and her vision blurred for an instant but before she could regain her feet, another blow came down, and another.

Harper's vision faded into blackness.

..._...

Harper had no idea how much time had passed, but she was hungry and thirsty – and very cold.

The room had been warm, the last time she was awake – now it was Baltic. She shivered in her underwear on the threadbare mattress. She needed warmth, but she also needed something else, so she stood up, her head pounding. She pounded her fists on the wooden door to her makeshift cell.

"Hey!" she shouted as loud as she could.

There was no response.

"Hey! I need to wee! I need the loo!"

Harper began to feel very uncomfortable – she really did need to use the toilet – but nobody came. Finally, Harper dejectedly struggled to pull down her underwear and with no other choice, she squatted down in a corner and she released her bladder. It was a major effort to pull up her underwear, but she managed it and she huddled on the mattress trying to keep warm as she shivered. Then she heard something – it was a key in the door to her room/cell. She turned over and sat up. It was the girl again and she held what appeared to be a dog bowl and a small cup. The items were placed down on the floor and the girl turned to leave.

"Your food, wretch!"

The bowl was plastic and contained something which neither looked like food, nor smelt like food.

"What is it?" Harper demanded.

"Don't eat it – I don't care."

With that, the girl left the room, slamming the door behind her and locking it. Harper explored the gifts. The plastic cup held water, of which she eagerly drank half – it was just as cold as the room. The food which sat in the dog bowl looked just like dog food, although to be brutally honest, even dog food looked more appetising. Nevertheless, the _Predator_ inside of her was in charge and she knew that she needed to keep her strength up if she was to make her escape. She pushed a finger into the dark substance – it felt like mince and was stone cold. She knew what they were doing – it was psychological; they were wearing her down prior to interrogation. Only, she was not about to betray her friends and her family – she would hold out as long as her training and conditioning would allow her.

With a grimace, she scooped out some of the congealed meat and she forced herself to chew and swallow the horrible substance.

..._...

Another bowl of congealed food appeared a while later.

Nobody had talked to her, nobody had even acknowledged her existence, except for the girl delivering the stuff that was supposed to be food. Harper was still shivering with the cold and she felt thoroughly miserable. She could smell her own urine over in the corner and the smell exposed her weakness. She could do nothing to make good her escape, but she needed to keep her strength up, so again, she forced down the cold food and she drank more of the water which was not exactly fresh from a mountain spring. The room began to get dark, not long after the food came. The temperature was dropping too, and the stone floor was becoming colder under Harper's bare feet and legs, so she moved onto the mattress which was barely a degree warmer.

The nine-year-old focussed her mind on her _Predator_ training and she allowed herself to be drawn back into that mindset as she believed that it might help her to survive. As the darkness grew, Harper found herself plunged into total darkness and she lay down on the mattress, dejectedly shivering as she struggled to keep warm. She tried to listen, to hear anything which might help her, or give her hope, but there was nothing – she was very much alone. She missed her sister. She missed her friends. She missed her family.

Despite her bravery and courage, she could not prevent the tears which welled up in her eyes and overflowed down her frozen cheeks onto her mattress.

* * *

 ** _The following morning_**

 ** _Saturday, October 8th_**

It was dark when they came for her and for Harper it was a very rude awakening as she heard the door opening and then hands on her as she was yanked to her feet.

The cold had deadened her senses, slowing her reactions. She tried to fight, but she could not. The disorientation was fogging her mind and for several moments she did not even realise that she was on her feet and being shoved out of her cell. There was a strong hand around her left upper arm which dragged her along. Her bare feet were frozen as she stumbled along a corridor with a stone floor that had to be only a few degrees above zero. Finally, after what seemed like quite a distance, they stopped, and Harper sagged against a stone wall, shivering despite the brisk movements. Then, without warning, Harper's world was turned upside down as her T-shirt was ripped from her along with her underwear and she fell, completely naked, to the stonework that formed the floor.

The young girl found herself unceremoniously yanked to her feet and then pushed out of a door and she screamed as freezing cold water soaked her already freezing skin within seconds. The water brought her very quickly to her senses and her shivering increased. She was outside in the pouring rain and it was still very dark. A bright light shone on her, dazzling the girl so she could not see anything which might be called intelligence for an escape. Then, despite the fact she was soaking wet, a hand shoved her hard in the chest. Harper could do nothing as her hands were still bound in front of her, so she fell backwards, landing in freezing cold mud which splashed all over her. Harper screamed as the cold mud hit her and the intense shivering began to move towards hyperventilation. Her mind was losing focus and she could not think – she just lay there in the mud and she thought of her sister and how much she wanted to be with her.

Then the light was shone directly into her eyes and Harper screamed again as she was yanked to her feet by her bound wrists. Harper was losing control of her body as it shook violently with the cold. Her feet squidged through the mud and the feeling between her toes felt horrible to the girl. She was dragged through more mud and then onto some rough concrete before she suddenly screamed again as a torrent of freezing cold water struck her from what had to be a hosepipe, despite the torrential rain which was still pummelling the naked girl. Thankfully, the mud was blasted off her body. Harper almost choked on the water as it was aimed directly at her face. It moved into her hair and then across her back.

The shivering was unbelievable as she was dragged across the same rough concrete and then she suddenly felt a wave of warmth as she was led back inside before she was thrown into a room with a lino floor and which stank of tobacco. Her two items of clothing were thrown in after her and then the door was slammed shut. Harper struggled to open her eyes as the room was lit by a very bright strip light which was dazzling to the disorientated girl. However, the most important thing was that the room was heated – extremely well – and it did not take very long for the frozen Harper to regain feeling in her extremities and for her skin to dry. She pulled on her meagre clothing and sat on the floor close to the radiator which emitted copious amounts of heat for the girl to enjoy.

Once her mind had thawed, the _Predator_ in her queried the rapid shift between cold and heat and the interceding abuse – she was being prepared for an interrogation.

..._...

The door opened, and Harper glared at the man who entered the room - it was the man from the BMW – and she noticed that the room had a number on the door: 14.

"Please get up off the floor, young Harper – we do have a chair for you," the main suggested.

Harper could see no reason for not cooperating – at least for the moment – so she stood up and sat down on the chair which faced another identical chair across a small table. The man took the other chair and he placed a cardboard file of paperwork beside him.

"Would you like a drink? Maybe some food?" the man asked as he reached across the table and he removed the handcuffs along with the flexicuffs.

Harper knew the tactics – she had read the same book: 'Interrogation 101'. The man was chatty, obviously trying to be her 'friend' and wanting to help her. He had a thick folder full of 'stuff', alluding to the fact that he knew everything, so why hold back from answering the questions? A part of 'Interrogation 101' was identifying the techniques being used as there was a method to defeat each technique. There was a problem; the man knew what she was, so she assumed he knew her training – 'Hold on!' Harper thought to herself. 'Don't _assume_ anything!'

"You've not asked me why you are here?" the man began.

"I figured that you'd tell me if you want me to know," Harper replied as nonchalantly as she could.

"Just so I have the correct information, could you provide me your full name?"

"Harper Sharp."

"Date of birth?"

"A lady never gives out her age," Harper replied facetiously.

"Come now, Harper, you are nine-years-old – not quite a lady, I think."

"March 19th, 2007."

"I've put you down as 'female' – you don't see yourself as something different; I have to ask nowadays in this politically correct climate."

Harper was getting annoyed – the guy was fucking around with her.

"I was born a girl and I'm still a fucking girl – I was naked just a few minutes ago, so I'm sure somebody can confirm that I have a sodding snatch!"

"No need for that language, young Harper – now, your parents. . ."

"Go fuck yourself!"

"Okay – touchy subject; we'll come back to them."

"You live with your sister, I believe, a Keira Sharp. She was a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy – she gave up her commission to look after you, I believe."

Harper was annoyed at how much the man had on her.

"Tell me, Polaris, where are your friends right now?"

There it was. Straight out in the open without fanfare; he was digging for information about _Vengeance_. Harper clammed up; she was answering no more questions.

"We were doing so well, Harper."

The door opened, and a tray was brought in and placed before her by the girl. She groaned. The man stood up.

"I'll take my leave and come back in a little while – enjoy the food."

With that, the man was gone with the girl and the door was closed – and locked. Harper groaned again. The tray held a plate which held a freshly made cheeseburger and a pile of steaming chips – there was even a container with what looked like Ketchup. The cold can of Pepsi Max was also very appealing. What did she have to lose? The food would give her the energy she needed to resist their interrogation for as long as was humanly possible. Harper gave in and she began to eat the burger – it tasted _so_ good! She drank the Pepsi Max and dipped her chips into the Ketchup, savouring every bite, not knowing when she might enjoy something so nice again.

The man returned as promised, just as Harper had finished eating – he was not smiling any longer.

..._...

"Enjoy the food, you little bitch?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Right, time to demonstrate what happens should you fail to follow instructions, or you fail to answer my questions to my satisfaction. I believe you know Instructor Morris."

Harper's smirk vanished in a millisecond as a large woman stepped into the room which suddenly went very cold all of a sudden.

"Well, if it isn't 'The Wicked Witch of the West'!" Harper growled with forced bravado.

"Well, if it isn't little Harper – you've grown; more for me to play with," Sophie Morris chuckled.

For a moment, Harper forced a grin, but fear soon overtook her. Morris was a face from her past; one which she hated – one which scared the girl to her core and one which she had hoped had died with _Urban Predator_. Sophie Morris stepped up to the table and she grabbed hold of Harper's left arm, flattening out the small hand. Harper was shaking with fear. She knew that Morris hated children – especially _Predators_. Her greatest joy was imparting pain in children. Before Harper could consider . . .

Harper screamed an unearthly scream as her little finger was violently twisted, snapping the first knuckle. The girl had never felt so much pain and she continued to scream before she struggled to breathe for a moment and then she was violently sick, vomiting up everything which she had consumed in the previous twenty-four hours. She fell off the chair, onto the floor, gripping her swollen hand and shaking with the pain.

The next few minutes were totally missed by Harper as she was dumped on her ragged mattress where she passed out from the pain.

..._...

Harper had no idea how long she had been asleep.

She was awoken by that girl who dragged her to her feet and thrust her out of the door. Harper moved as quickly as she could – her hand was throbbing like nothing she had felt before and the pain was difficult to push down. She could taste vomit in her mouth and she remembered the wonderful meal, followed by the pain and the vomiting. It appeared to be daylight Their destination was not Room 14 – it was Room 16, apparently – and rather ominously, there was a camera on a tripod standing to the right of the door. Even more ominously, the man was back, as was Morris.

"Now, Harper, we are going to send your sister a little video – won't that be nice?" the man asked.

Harper rolled her eyes, but she decided to cooperate – at least her sister would know that she was still alive. After she was provided with a set of instructions, the man set the camera running before he stood well out of camera shot. He pointed at the floor and Harper sank to her knees before she stared up at the camera, as directed.

"Is this what you want, dickhead?" Harper called out.

Morris stepped forward and she slapped Harper around the head, hard enough to elicit a scream. Harper returned to her knees having fallen onto her backside. She picked up the newspaper she had been holding and she glared up at the camera.

"Tell them how much fun you are having, Harper," the man directed.

"Fuck you!" Harper yelled back.

"You are not learning, are you, Harper."

Morris stepped forwards, careful to keep her face away from the camera, and she pinned Harper down on the floor while the girl who had tormented her grasped her left hand and held it to the floor. Harper knew what was coming and she felt fear as she screamed out.

" _NO!_ "

Harper continued to scream as she heard the cracking of her knuckles as two more of her fingers on her left hand were broken at the second knuckles. Harper fought to pull her hand away from the iron grip of the girl, but she soon weakened, and she passed out from the incredible pain, for the second time that day.

* * *

 ** _Later that same day_**

Harper felt at peace for the first time in many hours, only she had no idea why.

She felt warm and cosy, except for her left hand which felt cold. Then she felt something on her head – a hand – and her eyes flew open. The girl was there, kneeling beside the mattress and she was gently wiping a cloth across Harper's forehead. Harper realised that her hands were not bound, but her left hand was wrapped in icepacks.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Scarlett. Have no fear; I won't hurt you – unless you give me reason to. You are being given the remainder of the day to rest and recuperate before your next chat with the boss."

Harper grimaced and she felt the throbbing in her left hand.

"I am authorised to feed you and treat your injuries. Look, I'm not a fan of what's being done to you, but I am under orders. I will apologise for stripping you, last night, and shoving you in the mud, plus the hose pipe."

"It was bloody freezing!" Harper growled. "You enjoy seeing me naked?"

"Do you want me to hurt you?"

"Sorry."

"Do you need the toilet?"

Harper thought about that for a moment.

"Yes, I do."

Scarlett helped Harper to her feet and out of the cell. They walked a few yards down the corridor and stopped outside a door.

"I'll trust you to use the facilities without causing any trouble and I will be waiting right here."

Harper pushed open the door and she found herself in a small room with little more than a toilet and a sink. Once the door was closed, Harper pulled down her underwear and sat down on the toilet. As well as emptying her bladder and bowels, Harper took a moment to allow her emotions to get the better of her and she cried for a full minute before there was a banging on the door.

"You done!"

Harper wiped her eyes and a couple of other places before hauling up her underwear, washing her right hand, and her face – not easy with only one hand. Harper pulled open the door to find Scarlett waiting as promised. The girl, who appeared to be around sixteen-years-old with vivid red hair currently up in a ponytail, pointed down the corridor, away from Harper's cell. Under normal circumstance, Harper may have considered taking her down, but with one hand unavailable, that was not a current option. Harper obeyed, and she made her way down the corridor, her feet very cold on the stone flags which made up the floor on which she was walking.

"Any chance of some shoes – some socks maybe?"

"Not a chance."

"Some less humiliating clothing, perhaps?"

"Keep pushing and I hurt you, Harper."

Harper simply shrugged, not wishing to push her luck while she was on the receiving end of non-painful activities. Scarlett escorted Harper to a large room which appeared to be a dining room. On a table, there was a single plate, piled high with a cooked breakfast: bacon, eggs, sausages, fried potatoes, and baked beans. Scarlett pointed Harper at the plate, but Harper hesitated.

"No tricks, this time, we need to keep your strength up. You will be allowed to digest this meal. You'll find some milk and some paracetamol tablets – that hand must really hurt."

"It does," Harper admitted as she sat down at the table.

First things first, she downed two paracetamol caplets and then she took a gulp of the ice-cold milk. She dived into the food with gusto while Scarlett stood a short distance away and watched. The food actually tasted really good and considering she had had very little to eat in the past day, Harper was ravenous.

While she ate, she studied her surroundings and considered her future which at that point, appeared rather bleak.

..._...

True to her word, Scarlett allowed Harper to finish her food and drink the milk.

The cutlery had been plastic, and Scarlett had made a point of ensuring that the knife _and_ fork were accounted for. After another brief visit to the toilet, Scarlett locked Harper back in her cell. However, Harper found a thick blanket and a pillow on her mattress. She smiled for the first time in ages as she laid down on the mattress, pulled up the blanket over herself, and rested her head on the reasonably soft pillow. The young girl was asleep in less than a minute.

Her dreams were not very pleasant as the _Predator_ inside her generated scenario after scenario for her mind to feast on as she slept.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

They came for her soon after ten o'clock.

Harper had slept for near enough eleven hours although she had screamed out more than once during her rest. Scarlett had checked on her every hour, checking that the girl was behaving – and was still alive. It was basically the same routine as the previous night. Harper was rudely awoken from her sleep and while disorientated, the girl was stripped of her meagre clothing and her hands were secured with steel handcuffs and plastic zip-ties. The girl was then frog-marched down the ice-cold corridor and once again, she was thrown outside into the freezing rain and then into the oozing mud. The shock to Harper's system was acute as she had gone from toasty warm to absolutely freezing in the space of two minutes. Harper screamed as her badly-damaged left hand came in contact with something hard – the paracetamol had worn off hours before.

Harper was struggling, at the end of her tether. She knew that it was all psychological conditioning with the aim of making her more cooperative when it came to her interrogation. She was yanked out of the mud and then blasted with the hosepipe again, only not as well as the previous evening and mud was still present in her hair. She was thrust back into what had to be Room 14 – the heating was on but apart from a towel, she was not given back her clothes as on the pervious night. Her welcome was not as cordial either.

"Okay, you bloody little shit," the man almost yelled.

Harper cowered in the corner by the radiator, the towel held tightly around her body by her working right hand. She could smell tobacco – a stench of tobacco which unnerved her. The man was smoking a large cigar, which he placed down in an ashtray. Harper coughed pointedly.

"Second-hand smoke is the least of your worries, young Harper. You have anything to say to me?"

Harper looked away from the man, digging deep for the courage to resist whatever was about to come her way. The man simply shrugged, and he sat down at the table where he ruffled through the same file as the previous day. The man said nothing for several minutes – 'Interrogation 101': humans have a natural will or desire to fill gaps in conversation; especially young females. Harper decided that she was in no rush to go anywhere, so she kept her mouth firmly shut and she concentrated on regaining the warmth that she desired so much.

"Sit!"

Harper counted to five before she leisurely stood up and moved over to the chair where she sat down, still glaring at the man.

"How many aboard _Caledonia_?"

"Is it all of _Vengeance_?"

"Who is giving you external assistance?"

"How is the Royal Family involved?"

"Is Princess Mary with you?"

The questions came thick and fast, Harper was given no time to answer any of them – she knew the tactic, but that did not prevent her getting flustered as she tried to keep a black expression and give nothing away.

" _WELL!_ "

Harper was shocked by the sudden yell, almost in her face. She was jolted hard which scared her. The man lit a cigarette but did not smoke it.

"I missed the question."

"How many aboard _Caledonia_?"

"Is it all of _Vengeance_?"

"Who is giving you external assistance?"

"How is the Royal Family involved?"

"Is Princess Mary with you?"

The questions were repeated, only slower.

Harper remained silent, ignoring the verbal barrage. Then the man reached out and he grabbed Harper around the neck, lifting her easily from her chair and planting her on the table top, face up.

"You will answer my questions, you little bitch!"

Harper was caught off guard as she felt a searing pain just above her stomach. She smelt burning and she screamed at the realisation that the man had shoved the burning tip of the cigarette into her skin. The cigarette was there for barely a second before it moved to another spot, and then another – a total of four times, Harper was burned. She screamed, and she screamed as she writhed but the man had her neck in a vice-like grip from which she could not escape. The pain was enormous, and Harper was being pushed very close to her pain threshold which was much higher than that of the average nine-year-old child.

"Hello, Harper," Instructor Morris grinned as she entered the room and the man left.

Harper continued to scream and scream as the door closed behind the man.

..._...

"Grow a bloody backbone, girl!"

Scarlett did her best to hide the look of horror etched into her face at the sounds of the screaming and the smell of burning flesh. She could stomach only so much against a young girl.

"If you are not going to show some form of strength, Scarlett, then you can go back to your mother like the cowardly little girl you obviously are."

"No, Dad – I'll stay."

"For now."

There were times when Scarlett Radford hated her father, but she also loved him more than anything. She was fully aware of his methods and had been for many years. She was sixteen-years-old, and while she could stomach a beating of some poor individual who had upset her father; hurting a child was something else. Her father had explained that Harper was not a normal child, but that was not the point.

Scarlett remained outside the room, ready to return whatever remained of Harper Sharp back to her cell.

..._...

Sebastian Radford walked into the capacious drawing room of his Midlands home.

"Good evening, Sebastian," the man, in his mid-fifties, said as he stood up with a painful grimace.

"Welcome, William – you're looking a lot better."

"The wonders of modern medicine," William Fraser chuckled as he took another sip of whiskey from the cut-crystal tumbler in his hand.

"I have to agree, without modern medicine, I might not be here," the mind-forties woman said as she also took a sip of whiskey.

"Welcome, Susan; it's very good to see you," Sebastian offered. "Let's talk."


	38. Vengeance Strikes Back

**_Saturday, October 8th, 2016_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

 ** _2130 hours_**

"We believe that Harper is being held at a property south of Coventry," Debbie had announced to Keira. "The big problem is how we go about it. It will be in the centre of the UK and just getting there will be a challenge as me and my team are under intense suspicion at the moment. You are all not exactly welcome on the mainland, either."

"Screw that – we can sneak ashore and do what we need," Cassie commented. "I have a plan."

"Really, Cassie?" Sarah commented. "A cunning and subtle one?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"As cunning as a fox who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And Cassandra Perrin goes forth," Sarah chuckled, ignoring her sister's glare of death.

Cassie vanished to make some phone calls.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, October 9th_**

 ** _Just off the A27  
Chichester By-Pass  
Southern England_**

 ** _10:00_**

"We safe here?" Kaitlin queried.

"It's a derelict house, Kaitlin – nobody lives here, and it serves our purposes as a meeting point."

Keira was pacing back and forth – there were fifty hours left and they had barely a plan. They had each arrived in Chichester in small groups from different directions. Keira, Kaitlin, Naomi, and Cassie had been the first group, arriving by taxi from the city centre and completing the last mile on foot. The four females were soon joined by Craig, Jessica, Jeremy, and Trevor. Trevor drove the 2014 Ford Mondeo hatchback which had seen better days. Then, came a surprise. A Land Rover Discovery 4 pulled up and Kaitlin smiled enormously as Andrew Bedford, Cassie's fiancé stepped out and he hugged Cassie before picking up Kaitlin and Naomi in turn, hugging each girl tightly.

"Where did he come from?" Kaitlin demanded.

"He's been down on the south coast for a few days," Cassie explained. "He's been to pick up all of our kit. Better get it spread out – stick some in the Mondeo."

"Would have taken some explaining, if I was pulled," Andrew chuckled.

With Andrew were Natasha and Cameron. The team was growing as three more vehicles pulled up. One was a dark green Jeep, another a compact Vauxhall Corsa, while the other was a rather run-down Ford Focus. The Corsa held Debbie, Electra, and Yvette. As for the Jeep, two women stepped out. One, Natasha instantly recognised.

"Hi, Mac!"

"Hello, Nats," the American woman replied.

"This is Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Judge Advocate General's Corps, United States Marine Corps."

"Just call me, Mac," Mac replied as she introduced her companion. "This is Lieutenant Mathilda Grace Rabb."

"I prefer, Mattie," the young American woman grinned.

"Harm sends his greetings, as does Jen. I understand you are in a bind?" Mac said.

"Yes," Natasha replied. "We are in hot water and persona non-grata on the shores of the United Kingdom. We have invited yourselves as you are Americans and therefore not being tracked like we might be."

There was movement from the remaining vehicle and a tall man stepped out.

" _This_ was your plan?" Natasha growled. "You bring _that_ cock-sucking bastard?"

"He's promised to be nice – assuming he wants to get his career back on track," Cassie commented.

"You weren't there when he fucked us all up," Cameron pointed out, anger growing.

"I understand he's reformed, besides – nobody's watching a washed out Royal Navy officer with no career prospects."

"Bit harsh," Lieutenant-Commander Bob Mitchell commented. "I may have been an arsehole to Hit Girl, but I have reformed and besides, I serve the Queen and this Government; I will do everything I can to help you in your quest."

"One slip and you die," Natasha advised he officer.

"What's with the kids?" Mattie asked.

* * *

About ten minutes later, it was time to depart.

"What vehicle are we using?" the ever-observant Kaitlin asked as she saw no space for them.

"Andrew left it parked around the corner – go look," Cassie said.

Kaitlin ran around the corner excitedly, but the grin vanished very quickly. Cassie followed, along with Keira and Naomi.

"Has it got a five-litre V12?" Kaitlin demanded.

"Nope."

"Hidden machine guns?"

"Nope."

"Three-litre V6?"

"Nope."

" _Anything_ special?"

"Nope – just a standard car."

Kaitlin gave the rather mundane looking Volkswagen Passat estate a grim glare.

"It's _so_ demeaning."

"Just get in – and honey?"

"Yes?" Kaitlin asked as she pulled open the rear door."

"Belt up in the back, there's a good girl!" Cassie chuckled.

Kaitlin scowled as Naomi laughed.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

 ** _Hunningham_**

The three-hour drive had been tiring, but they had all rested upon arrival about eight miles to the south of Coventry.

Mac and Mattie cruised around the area relying on their American accents to protect them should they be stopped. They took photos, plenty of them. Also on a reconnaissance mission, Jason and his family were out looking for anything and everything. The two _Predators_ knew what was at stake; one of their own was in danger. Their training had kicked in the moment that they had arrived in the area, taking in cars and faces as they drove around the area. The assault team was to be Craig, Naomi, and Kaitlin. Cassie, along with Natasha and Cameron were backup for the _Predators_ with Jessica and Jeremy on lookout. Electra and Yvette were with Debbie and Jack, positioned in case of a break out to the west, as were Jason, Nicky, and their kids covering the east. Mac and Mattie were on hand should interference be required. Keira, Trevor, and Mitchell were the grab team. Considering the video, they had witnessed, it was expected that Harper would not be able to move on her own. They also had medical supplies available should their assault prove successful.

Their assault _had_ to be successful.

* * *

 ** _Later that night_**

It was a little before ten when they moved in.

Glide as the smallest led the assault team, NVGs on her head. Over to her right, Prowl, with Stripe further over. Each held a suppressed automatic rifle to their shoulders as they moved toward the target building. The tactical situation was lousy, and they were limited in their points of advance. The biggest problem was the proximity to civilians and the fact that armed police support was only minutes away from them. To add to the problems, there was heavy rainfall, which from the other side of the coin would mask their approach.

Glide paused as she came closer to the main group of buildings. A light had just come on, illuminating a rear section of the guardian. She raised her left fist and her team halted. Glide lifted her NVGs and she brought up a set of binoculars. As the astounded girl watched, a door was thrown open and two people stepped out into the rain.

"I have Polaris in sight!" Glide radioed. "Repeat, I have Polaris in sight!

Glide could not believe her eyes as her friend was thrust outside into the freezing rain, completely naked apart from some medical dressings. The other person was apparently a girl in a hooded waterproof jacket. Then Glide was appalled as Harper was shoved down into the mud and then mud was kicked in her face. Harper spluttered, as she choked on the mud before she was yanked to her feet and hosed down. Forty seconds later, the door slammed shut and the light went out. With her left hand, Glide waved her team forwards. They made it all of ten yards before Prowl caught an unseen tripwire.

There was a loud bang, and a bright white flare rocketed into the sky.

* * *

 ** _Several minutes earlier_**

Despite her not having a watch, she knew roughly the time of night because of the routine.

Once again, she was roused from a deep sleep, stripped naked, soaked, and thrown into the mud. From Harper's point of view, it was getting really old. On top of the original three broken fingers on her left hand, she now had numerous, painful, cigarette burns on her front and a nasty cut on her left thigh – a gift from Instructor Morris the previous afternoon. On the plus side, she had received another meal and a trip to the toilet. Unfortunately, there was the negative side, too – another visit to Room 14 and that delightful bitch.

"Hello, Harper, so nice of you to join us."

Harper was about to respond with some snarky comment, but then she saw who else was in the room and the fear took over and she shook from head to toe as she shivered in her towel. She recognised the smirking face of Susan Cummings as the woman sat in a chair beside Morris.

"So, this is one of the little shits that burnt down my house on the Isle of man, almost taking me with it," she hissed.

Harper figured that she was in deep trouble. The woman looked really angry and the left side of her face was covered in a field dressing, as was the lower part of her left arm. It looked like she got burnt some after they had left her inside her burning house.

"If you would," Cummings directed.

Harper screamed as Morris lifted the nine-and-a-half-year-old off the floor before slamming her down on the table and ripping the towel away. Cummings produced a device which Harper recognised from her own torture training. It was the device cooks used and was basically a pressurised blowtorch. Harper shook and fought as Cummings lit the flame, but she was pinned down by Morris. Harper was transfixed by the bright blue flame knowing as the tip moved closer and closer that intense pain was awaiting her. Then the tip of the flame touched the surface of her skin, a short distance to the left of her navel. The pain was like nothing the young girl had ever endured in her 3,492 days of being alive. Harper screamed, and she screamed. Then the heat eased, but not the pain. Harper struggled to understand what was happening as she was bundled up in her towel and carried out of the room. There was frantic activity as people were shouting and doors were banging. Whatever was going on, it was bad.

But for Harper, she did not care as she mercifully lost consciousness and the unbelievable pain faded.

..._...

The gunfire was intense.

All attempts at stealth were abandoned as gunmen appeared from everywhere, including almost a dozen from across the road. Crimson and Drift moved to support the three _Predators_ as they fought their way towards the buildings. Raptor and Mitchell ran to assist, leaving Keira to guard the Passat should they find Harper and need to make their escape. Then a group of people emerged from a side entrance and Keira saw that one of them, a man, held a bundle in his arms. Keira could not believe her eyes . . . it was Harper. Harper was bundled into the back of a BMW saloon by an armed man before the vehicle accelerated away, straight past where the Passat was hiding. Keira dived behind the wheel of the Passat and ten seconds later, Keira was in pursuit of the fleeing BMW which had her little sister aboard.

She radioed her situation but focussed on the chase.

* * *

 ** _The Passat_**

The BMW headed in a southerly direction at highspeed.

Initially, the BMW had no idea that they were being pursued but Keira was quick to notice the evasive behaviour which began about a mile down the road. A further half mile down the road, the BMW slowed for a left-hand bend, allowing Keira to close for a moment and she anchored on the brakes before flooring the six-speed automatic transmission. They were now heading east. The BMW narrowly avoided a smash at a dog-legged junction as it fishtailed across the junction. Inside the BMW, Harper was regaining consciousness – she was cold and barely covered in the towel. Her left side was burning, literally, and the pain was . . . Harper screamed as she was thrown to the side of the back seat as the car took a hard-right turn at a junction. The armed man beside her, yanked her back into the middle where he could keep an eye on her.

Keira was furious, she was so close. The right-hand turn was not easy with such a large car and she almost lost control of the almost two-tonne vehicle. She streaked down a long straight road at over eighty-miles-per-hour, closing on the BMW which suddenly slammed on the brakes. Keira could see a roundabout approaching on the map displayed in the dash and she too slammed on the brakes. She clipped the edge of the roundabout as she skidded around before heading down the B4455 Fosse Way. The next two miles or so was relatively straight, but narrow road, none of which was lit. Keira was able to catch up and pass alongside after just under a mile and she tried to nudge the BMW off the road, constantly aware that her little sister was aboard that very same BMW.

The road was too narrow, and the BMW kept slipping back into place on the tarmac. Keira accelerated ahead trying to pass and block the vehicle, but the BMW was able to nudge ahead, despite them approaching ninety-miles-per-hour. Then another vehicle came onto the road from the opposing direction and Keira backed down to avoid a disastrous collision, allowing the BMW to move ahead. The BMW driver then scared the life out of Keira as he did the unexpected. Instead of continuing in a southerly direction along the relatively straight road, the BMW suddenly anchored on the brakes and took a sharp right up a farm road.

Keira barely had time to make the same turn, clipping a road sign with the back of the estate, creating a loud bang. The farm road was gritty and that also caused the wide eighteen-inch tyres to struggle with grip and the rear end to fishtail as Keira took the varied turns along the very narrow road. A tight left turn approached, only visible because Keira had seen the BMW take the turn fifty or sixty yards ahead. A quarter mile ahead, they blasted through a farmyard and took a dirt track heading in a northerly direction. Over the next mile or so, they took several sharp bends, and accelerated down some lengthy straights before they thundered into the sleepy village of Radford Semele. However, the BMW driver appeared to have made a mistake.

After dodging a few people out walking their dogs and scaring the crap out of a few people who were stumbling their way back home from the pub, the BMW approached a T-junction, but he misjudged it in a major way and he slammed on his brakes far too late and the BMW spun sideways in an effort to make the turn after an otherwise almost perfect six-and-a-half-mile chase.

Keira watched as the BMW slammed sideways into the hedge at speed, coming to a halt very quickly as it bounced back into the road junction.

* * *

 ** _Hunningham_**

The fighting had moved to close combat.

They all knew that Harper was gone, but they needed to push on and take down those who had taken and obviously tortured Harper. Assault rifles had been discarded and the _Predators_ were resorting to knives and pistols. Stripe was in his element as he fought to avenge his missing comrade. He moved from man to man, stabbing and shooting as he waded through them. He was very angry, and he made damn sure everybody knew it. As for Glide, she was just as angry, and in partnership with Prowl, she made her own anger known as she put bullets into knees and she stabbed blades into hearts. Drift took on the larger men while Nemesis and Crimson pushed towards the house. They were all aware that three vehicles were speeding away from the site and the outlying teams had been notified to attempt intercepts.

Then, just as Glide approached the doorway where she had seen Harper not too long before, she was grabbed by some very strong hands. Then the girl screamed with fear as she looked up into a face, direct from her worst nightmares. The girl squirmed, and she fought as she tried desperately to escape the hold on her arms. The paralysing fear that Glide felt within her prevented the girl from properly reacting and thenceforth using her training to break out of the hold. Nemesis would never be able to forget the piercing scream nor who had uttered the instantly recognisable sound of intense pain and distress.

The scream cut through the night as Glide's shoulder was viciously wrenched from its socket. The ball of the joint tried to regain its former position in the socket, but it failed, only moving partially back into place. The girl continued to scream as she writhed in agony, all thought of fighting gone. Prowl was the next on the scene and for a very brief moment, she too froze when she saw who had hold of Glide. The face of Instructor Morris struck fear into her very being, but she fought through that and she brought her pistol up but not before she herself was struck by two bullets in the stomach, winding the girl who fell to her knees as she struggled to breath.

Stripe attacked the man who had shot Prowl while Nemesis raced for Glide.

* * *

 ** _The Passat_**

With a screech of brakes, the Passat slithered to a halt.

Keira dived out of the car and she ran for the immobilised BMW where she yanked open the rear door and she felt relief like nothing she had ever felt before. Harper was right there, tears spilling down her battered face. Keira yanked out the unconscious gunman who appeared to have taken the brunt of the impact, saving Harper. Harper held out her right hand to her sister and Keira relished the first touch in days. Then, with a scream of pain, Harper was viciously ripped away from Keira by a girl with fiery red hair who had reached in from the opposite side. The girl grinned as she slammed the opposite door before throwing the screaming Harper into a waiting Range Rover. Keira pulled her pistol, but a fusillade of gunfire had her diving for cover.

Harper was beside herself with fear and desperation as she was shoved into yet another vehicle. To see her sister so near, to have actually touched her, but then for her to be moving away . . . leaving _her_ . . . Harper's heart was ripped apart as she yelled out in desperation.

"Keira! Keira! Don't leave me! _Please_ . . . _K-E-I-R-A_!"

* * *

 ** _Hunningham_**

The woman was firing off bullets from a large calibre pistol as she backed towards the house and perceived safety.

Mitchell broke from cover and he ran directly at the woman, putting three bullets into her skull. Glide fell to the ground screaming and writhing as Mitchell ran over and he put a fourth bullet into the bitch's head for good measure. Mitchell was many things, few of them good, but he despised cruelty to children. He was also an experienced officer who recognised the injury. With a sharp movement, he snapped the shoulder back into place; Glide's muscles accomplishing most of the job. Almost immediately, the level of pain dropped by a magnitude and Glide stopped screaming but she was shaking from head to toe as Mitchell guided her to safety.

"She's safe," Mitchell announced as he panted from all the exertion.

"Thank you," Nemesis said as she held her daughter.

It was time to move; Police sirens could be heard not too far distant. Over the radio, came the sound of failure. Harper's second disappearance was confirmed by Mac who had caught up with a distraught Keira. They all ran for their vehicles but as they ran, Mitchell collapsed to the road.

He was coughing up blood as he rolled onto his side.

* * *

 ** _Jason, Nicky, Tim, and Natalie_**

 ** _Two-thirds of a mile to the east of Hunningham_**

The first ambush of the night was on a smart Range Rover which came right at them, only their Land Rover Discovery 4 successfully blocked the road causing the large 4x4 to slither to a halt in the rain.

Jason and Nicky covered the attack while their _Predators_ advanced on the stopped vehicle. Gunmen leapt out of the stopped Range Rover and a fierce firefight began, culminating in the two _Predators_ closing in as a team and dropping the three gunmen in a little over a minute. Natalie, otherwise known as Siren, jumped onto the bonnet of the Range Rover and she shattered the windscreen with two well-placed bullets from her Heckler  & Koch MP5 submachine gun. Tim, otherwise known as Snake Eyes, put a bullet in the driver's head before turning his attention to the one person remaining alive.

"Move and I fucking gut you, bastard!" Siren declared.

* * *

 ** _Debbie, Jack, Yvette, and Electra_**

 ** _One mile to the north of Hunningham_**

Debbie and Jack were very impressed as Rigour and La Terreaur tore into the stopped Audi, shattering the windows and killing all but the protected passenger.

They were stunned at the skill and professionalism shown by the two young girls as they struck from both sides and then from above as Rigour used the sunroof to kill the driver from above.

"One in custody," La Terreaur reported."

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

The silence was killing them.

No news had been forthcoming as it had been deemed essential to maintain total emissions control on _CALEDONIA_. The highly advanced snooping systems of GCHQ were only a short distance inland, and any signals would be instantly hoovered up and identified, betraying _Vengeance_ , even as they fought a critical battle to rescue one of their own. All those not involved in the rescue mission directly were continuing with their duties aboard the yacht, but their minds and blessings were with those facing danger over a hundred miles to the north.

It was the first time that Olivia had really felt like part of the crew. Everybody was civil to her, and nobody was nasty. Nobody even mentioned what she had endured. Olivia hated the fact that everybody had seen her naked, the boys, the adults. She felt utterly humiliated, only she had a friend. A friend who was always there. To Olivia, Mary was more than a Princess; she was a friend. The two thirteen-year-olds had been together ever since Olivia had regained consciousness from her operation to remove the tracker. Ginny was very impressed with how her charge, Mary, had matured during her short time with _Vengeance_. The Princess had remained neutral during the Olivia situation and she had behaved with a maturity way beyond her years.

As Ginny watched, the two girls were whispering and giggling. Furtive glances were visible as the two girls checked to see who might have overheard them as they whispered conspiratorially. Olivia had wanted to be on the rescue operation, but her body was still recovering from the minor operation and she was not ready for action. Across the deck, Marinette and Adrien were concerned about their ward, Yvette. To them, Yvette was their daughter. Even Alya missed Yvette, despite her initial reservations at taking in a pint-sized killer. Amy, of course, was concerned for her only son, Craig. She had seen how angry the boy had been at the thought of betrayal and how worried he had been about Harper. To Craig, all the girls were like younger sisters to the boy and he ferociously guarded them as such.

Sarah paced the bridge as she kept the yacht three miles out at sea.

* * *

 ** _Hunningham_**

Nemesis and Crimson dropped down beside the man and they searched for injuries.

Crimson's gauntlet came back covered in blood. The man had taken a large calibre bullet in the gut and he was bleeding more in than out. He would not survive the night.

"Tell . . . tell Hit Girl . . . tell her that I am sorry for what I did. Tell her that I . . . am sorry for not being able to tell her in person."

"Don't talk, Mitchell," Nemesis advised as she tried to make the man comfortable.

"Forgive me. . ."

Mitchell died as his final breath passed his lips and Nemesis sank back onto her heels. The man had put Glide's safety before his own and then he had paid with his life for that choice.

A girl would live thanks to his sacrifice.

* * *

 ** _The next afternoon_**

 ** _Monday, October 10th_**

 ** _RAF OAKINGTON_**

The decommissioned Royal Air Force station no longer had runways and was no longer even an active military base.

However, it was 65 miles away from the previous night's failure. Jasper, Lynn, and David had met the returning teams in the early hours. The teams had stumbled out of their vehicles in the security of the large aircraft hangar. Over to one side, a group of eight portacabins were arranged, two high in a line of four, end to end. The heating within those cabins was on and the tired fighters, dejected by the night's lack of success, slumped onto bare mattresses falling asleep almost immediately. Keira was inconsolable, and she had cried herself to sleep.

That morning, David and Trevor had set to work on one of the portacabins, covering the insides of two rooms with thick plastic. Sawdust was scattered over the floor and one or two other alterations were made. The two men were very happy with their work as they headed to the far end of the hanger where two forms lay huddled under the watchful eyes of Nicky Parsons.

"Hello," David announced cheerfully. "I must apologise for your current accommodations – however, your private rooms are now ready."

* * *

 ** _Room 101_**

Lynn pushed open the door, chuckling at the 'ROOM 101' sign.

"Good morning!"

"What do you want?" the woman demanded.

"Information, Miss Pitt."

The woman blinked at hearing her name.

"You are Sebastian Radford's Personal Assistant?"

Miss Pitt glared at her captor, not answering.

"The question was rhetorical, so let's get down to business."

Lynn took the back of her gloved hand across the right cheek of the glamorously dressed woman. Or they would have been glamorous if she had not been forced to spend a sleepless night in the corner of a dusty aircraft hangar. The woman was in her mid-thirties and highly intelligent, according to the hastily compiled file which Lynn held in her hands. Lynn could tell the type who supplanted their salary by offering the boss sexual favours to get a leg up, so to speak. The woman barely screamed as she was struck. She did not burst into tears, instead, she just glared at Lynn. Without warning, Lynn drove her fist directly into the smug bitch's face. There was an explosion of blood and mucus as the nose broke. After a very short screaming session, intermingled with some very creative language, the woman yelled at Lynn.

"Aren't you supposed to be asking me questions?"

"Silly me!" Lynn exclaimed. "I forgot all about that . . . thank you, so much," Lynn replied before she drove her fist into the woman's stomach.

The woman would have doubled over had her hands not been suspended above her head, attached to a discreetly installed steel hook high in the wall by her bindings.

"Back soon, Miss Pitt!" Lynn offered cheerfully as she left the room, securely closing and locking the door behind her.

* * *

 ** _Room 102_**

Next door, Jasper closed the door behind him and he simply stood there, staring at the man who hung from a meat hook hastily installed in the ceiling.

The man was one of Sebastian's staff. He was senior enough to know what was going on – at least that was what Jasper figured. He was operating on experience by that point. The man's shoes were barely touching the ground and after twenty minutes of hanging in such a position, his muscles were starting to elicit pain.

"Myself and my colleagues from Five have a thing about grown adults hurting kids."

"Those fucking abortions are not kids!" the man exclaimed venomously.

"They had no choice as to their upbringing, but they are kids – lovely kids. Let me introduce them to you."

Jasper knocked on the door which opened smartly and five _Predators_ marched in.

"This is Craig – he is thirteen and he is a _Predator_. Beside him is Naomi – she is nine and also a _Predator_. Then we have Electra – she is ten and a slightly different type of _Predator_. Then we have Yvette – she is also ten and a French _Predator_. They are all friends of Harper, whom you bastards have tortured. I am going to leave you in their care. Goodbye."

"Now children, you have fun but please, don't play nicely," Jasper chuckled as he closed the door.

* * *

Kaitlin had refused to take part.

She lay on her mattress, just staring into space while Cassie lay with her. Naomi had explained how it had been Instructor Morris who had taken the strap to Kaitlin all those months before and Kaitlin had been traumatised by the woman back then. While Kaitlin was pleased that the woman was dead, it had all been a terrible shock for the eight-year-old. She had not slept very well on their return, experiencing horrific nightmares as a result of coming into contact with the woman again. It did not help that her shoulder hurt constantly, despite the painkillers. Kaitlin was feeling a little better three hours later when her friends reappeared looking hot, sweaty, and bloody. Naomi grinned fiendishly, and she held something out on a paper plate for Kaitlin.

"A present for you, sister," Naomi grinned.

Kaitlin looked at Yvette and Electra who just shrugged. Kaitlin looked closer at what looked like a blob of meat on the plate.

"Is that a . . .?"

"A penis," nine-year-old Naomi confirmed happily.

"Ewww – and you say _I_ have problems," Kaitlin commented with a grimace.

* * *

 ** _The following day_**

 ** _Tuesday, October 11th, 2016_**

 ** _Noon_**

"Keira! Keira! Don't leave me! _Please_ . . . _K-E-I-R-A_!"

She had failed. It was the hardest thing that she had ever had to do . . . but there had been no choice. That fact was backed up when she checked her watch:

00:00:15 . . . 00:00:10 . . . 00:00:05 . . . 00:00:01

Keira began to sob as her watch beeped to indicate that the countdown was over. She knew in her heart that her sister was dead. Harper's final words echoed through her mind again, just as they had done ever since they had made their escape: "Keira! Keira! Don't leave me! _Please_ . . . _K-E-I-R-A_!" Her heart was in tatters at the thought of what she had done.

She collapsed to the ground beside the vehicles and sobbed.

* * *

 ** _Two hours later_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

Keira's mobile rang – it was Commander Haig.

He struggled to speak, but he advised Keira that he was sending on an email which had been sent to his personal mailbox. Keira's hands trembled as she opened the email – there was a video file attached.

"I'll do it," Cassie offered as she took the laptop off her friend and she opened the video file.

It was Harper – only she lay on the floor, not moving. What appeared to be blood and other bodily fluids pooled around her body as she lay on her back, her eyes closed. There was no obvious movement in the girl's chest to indicate that she was breathing. From the bruising and visible wounds, it appeared that she had been beaten to death. Keira could not move. She just sat there staring at the image which went on and on.

"As you can see," the familiar voice sneered, "Little Harper has served out her purpose and thanks to your negligence, she has died. There was no need for her to have died but you insisted on ignoring my instructions. Have a good day."

The video ended, a still of the dead nine-year-old visible on the screen.


	39. For Harper

**_One week later_**

 ** _Tuesday, October 18th, 2016_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

"Craig!"

"CRAIG!"

"What!"

"Oy, fuck face!"

"Kaitlin!"

"For the love of God!" Craig growled as he opened his eyes.

"Happy Birthday!"

Craig was then jumped upon by a group of scantily clad girls, one of whom gave him a kiss on the lips. Olivia blushed a deep red as she sat back on her heels and she bit her bottom lip as Craig grinned. Mary yelled Happy Birthday and blew Craig a kiss. He shoved Kaitlin, Naomi, Yvette, Jessica, and Electra out of the way as he made for Olivia. Craig kissed Olivia for several seconds before he then pulled Mary, who stood behind Olivia, down for a kiss on the lips.

"I've never kissed a Princess before," Craig grinned. "Throw me in the Tower of London if you wish, but it was worth it!"

Mary just stood there blushing as she grinned sheepishly and giggled. Olivia was giggling also as she pushed the younger females out of the cabin. Jeremy and Christopher had both been trampled by the girls but were otherwise grinning.

"Happy Birthday, mate!" Jeremy offered.

"Thanks."

Craig was very pleased to be thirteen.

..._...

Breakfast was animated as everybody tried to outtalk everybody else – nothing new there.

Cassie had given up attempting to referee the free for all and she watched as even the normally well-mannered Princess was rudely stretching across other people for the last piece of bacon, slapping away Jessica's hand before she could grab the lonely rasher. Ginny just shook her head, knowing that Mary would have a hard road ahead of her when it came to re-learning correct manners on her return to the Palace. Craig was enjoying himself – he had his parents with him for his special day – and it was a day which his parents never thought they would see.

Typically, it was Kaitlin who pushed things a little too far when she managed to smash a jar of marmalade on the deck and spill hot tea across the table. Cassie and Natasha dived in, sending the youngster off to the galley for the relevant cleaning equipment. The other kids rapidly finished off their breakfast as they noticed that both Cassie and Natasha were getting angry. Mary and Olivia vanished below to get dressed while Jessica dragged Naomi out of harm's way and the headed out on deck for some fresh air.

Craig and the other boys headed below to get themselves dressed.

..._...

Sarah was on the bridge with her sister.

Keira had pretty much kept herself to herself over the previous week. Sarah knew that her sister was beyond heartbroken; she was alone – her entire family was gone. Keira focussed on other things, such as being on watch, as a distraction from her loss. Keira had trouble sleeping and she cried a lot while was supposed to be sleeping. She and Sarah had talked through many night-time watches and at one stage, Keira had mooted regaining her commission as a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy and going back to flying helicopters at sea. Sarah agreed to a point – after all, Keira had left the Royal Navy to be with Harper. However, what really prevented Keira from mourning properly, was no body to mourn over.

She so dearly wanted her Harper back – even dead.

* * *

A lot had happened in the preceding week.

Ignoring the two bastards who had died in bloody messes; there had been quite a bit of surprise at how angry Lynn could get and the consequences of making her angry. Mary and Olivia had peeked into Room 101 to find a naked woman suspended from a hook on the wall and having the living daylights punched out of her. Neither had ever seen anything like it before and both had had nightmares that night. Even Natasha had been concerned at Lynn's anger, not to mention her dark side which had resulted in the woman losing parts of her anatomy as the torture had gone on and on. Despite that, some valuable intelligence had been obtained, and most of the preceding few days had been spent compiling that intelligence and sorting through it in order to identify fact from bullshit. With the help of the people from MI5 and Commander Haig's people, it had proved fairly easy to sift the intelligence for the true facts. Mary had been in touch with her father, who was also assisting as far as he could, without opening himself up to attack.

It was with a bit of a shock that the truth behind the dastardly plan had come to light. The truth was despicable and beyond belief. However, it appeared to be cold hard fact, and the events of the previous weeks had backed up those facts. It was left up to Commander Haig to alert the relevant authorities and hopefully to allow those same authorities time to act to prevent an act most heinous. As far as they could tell, _Vengeance_ had been deemed to be a major concern by those behind the scheme, and a wildcard which had to removed from the board before events could go ahead. Therefore, _Vengeance_ was declared persona non-grata as both a requirement and as a distraction. So, while the security services of the United Kingdom were kept busy chasing around after _Vengeance_ , they could easily miss what was actually going on directly under their very own noses.

A group of influential businessmen were behind the scheme and they had bribed, blackmailed, and blatantly extorted there way into a position of power over Government ministers. They had, apparently, made no attempt to subvert the Prime Minister herself, however, three ministers had retired literally overnight, 'to spend more time with their families'. On further investigation Command Haig had discovered that these men had refused to be bribed, however, they had been allowed to 'retire' with the threat of losing their family to keep their mouths shut. As such, three families had been relocated in the dead of night while the ministers themselves had been briefed to assist with maintaining the Government when required. Commander Haig possessed a list of those who had been subverted, however, it was difficult to identify who had been subverted willingly and who had been coerced by threats of death to them or their families.

However, things ended, there was to be a major witch hunt ahead to rebuild an effective government. All those coerced would have to go and they would have to face the music, so to speak. But that was for the future – hopefully, the near future – and only time would tell how events might play out.

That afternoon, Commander Haig came aboard CALEDONIA to provide an update.

* * *

 ** _The North Sea, south of Shoeburyness_**

The ORC of 539 Assault Squadron Royal Marines, 3 Commando Brigade, roared across the waves of the North Sea at thirty-five knots approaching the Blackwater Estuary.

The nine-metre offshore raiding craft carried ten people aboard. The twin Steyr M256 250-horsepower diesel engines powered the twin Rolls Royce FF270 waterjets which propelled the assault craft towards the rendezvous with CALEDONIA. In the bow, a Royal Marines Commando manned the twin 7.62-millimetre belt-fed machineguns mounted in the bow. At the stern, a white ensign billowed out in the speed-enforced breeze. At six miles, the radio squawked.

 _"Inbound watercraft at fifty-one degrees forty-five minutes north, zero degrees fifty-six minutes east. We are vessel not under command and you are advised to come no closer than two miles CPA. Over."_

"Victor Charlie, Victor Charlie, Victor Charlie, this is Cavalier Two-Four, Cavalier Two-Four. Authenticating Seven Six Whiskey. Over."

"Cavalier Two Four, Victor Charlie. Authenticating Alfa Foxtrot Niner. Welcome. Out."

The ORC rapidly dropped down off the plane with half a mile to go and it slowly but expertly came alongside CALEDONIA's highly-polished blue hull.

..._...

The Royal Marines Commando at the helm of the ORC smiled up at the machinegun-toting teenager who stood a few feet above him.

The boy nodded back, one professional to another. The gunner in the bow of the ORC was scanning his arc of vision, looking south across the Blackwater Estuary while members of _Vengeance_ kept an eagle eye on the other arcs. The two passengers were helped aboard by their escort and the ORC accelerated off seawards until called upon for the return trip.

"Hi, grandpa!"

"Electra!"

Commander Haig gave his granddaughter a brief hug before he and his rather green-looking long-suffering sergeant were escorted inside.

..._...

"How are we doing, Commander?" Cameron asked.

"I can't get anywhere near the PM to warn her and walls are going up everywhere now that the bastards know we are on to them. We have identified a handful of loyal ministers but without the PM, we are all being lumped in with you dear people. The Defence Minister is on our side and so are a number of Whitehall brass hats which is a blessing."

"Basically, nobody is going to lift a finger to prevent a powerplay against the government," Natasha stated. "They're just going to let it happen?"

"So, our only option is a military coup?" Sarah ventured. "That would make us no better than the Axis."

"I hate what you've called these people," Commander Haig growled. "Axis of Evil, indeed!"

"We had to call them something and it is that bad, Commander," Cassie challenged. "The war is starting here in the UK. There are parts of the Axis in the USA, too; Mindy'll be fighting them very soon, so the more damage we can do to them now, the better – even should we lose."

"I know. If they succeed in subverting the government then the United Kingdom will be plunged into a nightmare which has not been seen since the 1640s and the Great Rebellion. It is inconceivable that we can potentially have a civil war, right here in England."

"What can we do?" Keira asked, focussing her mind on the positive.

"We know their plan; we just don't know when," Cameron said.

"Could they have changed things," Jasper commented. "Considering we took two of their people."

"No – they're too far along," Sergeant Woodward commented. "It would be too difficult at such a late stage."

"How about we go see her?" David suggested.

"The PM?" Cameron replied.

"Yes. We find a way to tell her what's going on."

"Easier said than done, mate," Trevor commented dryly.

"Fucking hell!" Ginny commented. "We're talking about those bastards killing the Prime Minister and uprooting Mary's grandmother, for Heaven's sake!"

"Sums things up rather nicely, don't you think?" Trevor commented.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon_**

 ** _Wednesday, October 19th_**

They would either succeed, or they would fail and be branded as traitors to the Crown for the remainder of their worthless lives.

Serious thought had gone into who would actually go on the mission and who would be kept at arm's length in an attempt at saving their pitiful lives. Though the United Kingdom no longer made use of the death penalty, such a blatant attack might just prove to be enough to bring back the noose for those caught. However, any mention of splitting up the team for protection had not gone down well – even the French were onboard. _Vengeance_ were about to go about something which had never happened in British history and which had failed miserably when Michael Caine had tried to kidnap Winston Churchill during the movie: 'The Eagle Has Landed'. Nevertheless, the kidnapping of the British Prime Minister was deemed essential to prolonging both her life and her tenure as the leader of the United Kingdom. Whether that reasoning might mitigate their sentence as they stood in the Old Bailey charged with Treason against the Government of the United Kingdom was something which nobody wished to find out.

Ultimately, they may just vanish, with a D-Notice issued covering up anything which they had done and forbidding publication of said events.

* * *

 ** _Early the following morning_**

 ** _Thursday, October 20th_**

The teams separated at the west London town of Uxbridge, sixteen miles to the west of London.

It was critical that they got through to complete their mission, so three snatch teams were formed with three support teams. Duplication was the name of the game – actually, they had gone for triplication, just to be on the safe side. They would get but one chance at their task – it was do or die and as far as _that_ went, they all knew the risks and they would all die for their country should the need arise. A large part of the mission relied on Commander Haig and Mary's father to pull off a minor miracle when it came to equipment – without that equipment, the mission was doomed at the outset.

The teams had come ashore at Southend-on-Sea and Clacton-on-Sea with a third group reaching dry land at Gravesend. They had come ashore well before dawn from ORCs, courtesy of 539 Assault Squadron Royal Marines. Vehicles had been arranged and had waiting for them at each port. The six teams had then approached Uxbridge from three different directions expecting to be stopped at any moment by the police, MI5 . . . or worse. The teams would then layup and prepare for the night's action. Only once a reconnaissance had been performed and the target was found to be in residence would the attack commence. The three snatch teams; Victor Alpha, Victor Bravo, and Victor Tango, plus the support team; Victor Sierra, were to wait at Layup Point 1, two miles to the west of Gerrards Cross, a south Buckinghamshire town, in a quarry. Once there, they hoped to receive the equipment which they required to complete the mission.

The remaining pair of support teams; Victor Foxtrot and Victor Golf, moved much closer to the target and they stopped at Layup Point 2, an industrial estate outside of the Buckinghamshire town of Princes Risborough. There, they would be less than three miles from their intended target for that night. Yet again, Colonel Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie and Lieutenant Mathilda 'Mattie' Grace Rabb had offered their assistance and they would be the reconnaissance patsies. They would canvas the area and identify any potential problems. Should they be stopped, they would simply be a pair of 'dumb Americans lost in the wilds of England'.

At least that was the plan.

* * *

 ** _Layup Point 1_**

At eight, that night, after darkness had settled over the country, a deep rumbling sound was heard entering the quarry where the three teams were waiting.

Everybody jumped up and they grabbed their weapons, ready to make a stand. They were dismayed to see an array of Army vehicles cresting the quarry and making directly for them. It had to be a trap, but something kept fingers off triggers until the seven giant vehicles had stopped and a single man jumped down from the cab of the first truck. The Army officer – a major – made for them and he stopped a dozen feet away before he saluted.

"Cavalier Six – alpha, three, Zulu."

Crimson waved down the raised automatic weapons and she approached the officer.

"We thought that you might be needing these," the officer said with a flourish.

It was a simple statement from the Army officer as the covers were hauled off the vehicles being hauled by the giant Royal Logistic Corps low-loaders. The first trailer mounted behind the monster Oshkosh 1070F 8x8 tractor truck was carrying _SABRE_ and _SCIMITAR_. The two armoured Range Rover Sentinels were in perfect condition and clean to the point of being parade-perfect. The second eighteen-metre trailer bore two strange humps at each end, but the shapes soon became familiar once the canvas covers were removed. _TWILIGHT_ and SCOURGE were present and correct, their rotors folded.

"We have fuel and weapons," the officer explained as he pointed towards a pair of giant close support tankers and three DROPS trucks.

One of the tankers was a tactical air refueller while the other was marked up as carrying diesel. The Chief moved in to supervise the men from 6 Regiment, Army Air Corps, as they began to remove the tie-down straps for _Scourge_. In a little over an hour, both helicopters were sitting in the mud of the quarry and they were both fully fuelled and armed for combat. The two armoured 4x4s were similarly fuelled and the onboard weapons had been inspected and prepared for action.

He had watched the 4x4s drive off and then two hours later, as the two helicopters spun up their turbines and rotor-blades for take-off, the Army officer watched with building hope.

"Good hunting, _Vengeance_!"

* * *

 ** _SABRE and SCIMITAR_**

The two road vehicles had departed first as they had a twenty-mile drive to meet up with the other teams for which an hour was allowed to allow for stealth and problems.

Driving a pair of heavily armoured 4x4s through the most densely populated part of the country was not the easiest task. The usual registration plates had been replaced by borrowed sets which would be able to pass even the closest of police inspections. Still, the vehicles were heavy and obviously armoured, not to mention that they both sported certain features which did not appear on the usual Range Rover options list – armoured or otherwise. _SABRE_ was crewed by Crimson, Sleuth, and La Coccinelle. _SCIMITAR_ was crewed by Drift, Nemesis, and Stripe. They were the primary snatch teams and they were tasked with infiltrating what was arguably one of the most secure facilities in the home counties of southwest England. Buckinghamshire was about to hit the news – possibly.

But first, _Vengeance_ was about to hit Buckinghamshire with a vengeance.

* * *

 ** _Monks Risborough_**

The American contingent was settling down to dinner at a pub, just outside of Monks Risborough.

It was to be their cover, should everything go bad and it also kept them close should their assistance be required. They had spent most of the day driving around the area. They had found a heavy police presence which had simply confirmed the target's presence in the area, but then, they had hit the jackpot as the armoured Jaguar XJL had swept into the estate and up the drive towards the main house.

That fact had been called in via discrete code words.

* * *

 ** _Layup Point 2_**

Debbie Grey and Jack Foster had spent many hours getting to know their comrade in arms.

Prowl was pleased to be on the operation, even if it was only in a support role. The girl hated to be left out, but she understood the reasons why she could not be at the forefront of events. She liked the two MI5 officers – they were funny, and Jack knew some very crude jokes. Their Land Rover Discovery blended in where 4x4s were common. Awaiting their fate, in another Land Rover Discovery, Glide sat with La Chat Noir and Akuma. Akuma was monitoring every electronic signal in the area for anything which might show that they had been blown by the security services. A custom setup of three computers took up most of the boot and they sifted through the airwaves, decoding where possible and searching for certain words.

They awaited the arrival of the primary snatch teams.

* * *

 ** _Earlier that day_**

 ** _South Wales_**

The mood was angry, to put it mildly.

As Sebastian Radford paced his drawing room, he was simmering at a temperature only a few degrees below boiling. The Grand Plan was coming apart and it was all due to those _Vengeance_ bastards. He would make them pay, whether or not the Grand Plan succeeded or failed. The previous week, he had been unhappy about putting Harper beyond further harm – but that had been deemed necessary. The Grand Plan allowed for nothing and extreme steps had to be taken to keep to the plan. Radford looked over at Susan Cummings who was sitting on a sofa, seething. The woman was annoyed at losing out on her quality time with the little vigilante bitch, but she had also been lucky to escape with her life. Many had died, defending their bosses, including that psychotic bitch, Morris. Two people were missing and unaccounted for – that was a worry.

"What about your PA and your security man?" William Fraser asked. "Won't they talk?"

"Hopefully not . . . only, _Vengeance_ has proved to be one step ahead of us at each turn. It is very possible that they have tortured answers out of Angela and Reed, but it will take time for _Vengeance_ to piece things together and figure out what we are up to and when," Radford replied.

"We move up the schedule?" Fraser suggested.

"My sources have told me that _Vengeance_ supporters have been attempting to gain access to the Prime Minister. I have been able to forestall that for the moment – but very soon, the Prime Minister will get suspicious; assuming is not already," Radford replied. "Yes – I think we need to proceed with the culling. The pieces are in place and they have been for a few days."

"Who?"

"The whole damn lot of them!"

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace  
London, England_**

Mary was pleased to be home – sort of.

Yes, she was back in her own bedroom. Yes, she was back in more familiar surroundings. Yes, she was safe. Only, her friends were not. By the morning, they would either be dead or on the run at best. At worst, they would be criminals charged with a capital crime: Treason. Ginny had explained in graphic detail what awaited _Vengeance_ , should they be captured . . . the vivid detail had been more than enough for Mary to expect nightmares that night. She had been sent to somewhere that was deemed safer, but also far enough away from Vengeance to protect her from fallout should things go badly wrong.

She had spent a couple of hours with her father, discussing events over dinner that night. He had given Ginny a few withering looks as he had noticed his daughter's lapse in basic table manners and polite conversational skills. However, he was very pleased that his daughter had made some real friends, especially as he approved of them which had been a surprise. In particular, the young girl, Electra Haig, had prevented his daughter from dying out on the streets of London. For that act, Electra Haig had a free pass – she could steal the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London and the girl would avoid prison. He would forgive his wayward daughter her bad manners and uncouth language as a direct result of what she had achieved. He was very proud of Mary for what she had endured and how she had matured. She was a very different girl to that who had sailed away on the yacht with no name which she had since named CALEDONIA.

Mary's mother, God rest her soul, would have been very proud of her well-rounded daughter and how she had grown into an amazingly mature young woman.

..._...

At bedtime, the Prince knocked on his daughter's door.

"I'm decent, Dad."

The Prince chuckled as he turned the handle and he pushed open the door. He found Ginny running a brush through his daughter's long brown hair.

"She's not been paying proper attention to her hair while she was away, Your Highness," Ginny commented as Mary grimaced while another knot was removed.

Mary was in her pyjamas – she preferred pyjamas over a nightie and had done since she was about eight. With her height of a little over five-feet, she was closing on her father's six-feet and the Prince was sure that the girl had gained some muscle on her upper arms and thighs. During a confidential briefing with Ginny, he had learnt all that Mary had got up to aboard. He had heard about how well she got on with all the other kids. He had learnt how Mary had maintained a neutral position during the Olivia incident. He had also learnt about the attack on CALEDONIA which was thwarted by the submarine – that had been his doing and he was more than thankful to a certain Flag Officer Submarines for his assistance in re-tasking one of his nuclear-powered hunter-killer submarines.

"Good night, sweetheart," the Prince said as he gave his daughter a kiss. "I am so very proud of you and I am over the moon that you are back safe and sound."

"I've missed you too, Daddy," Mary said as she hugged her father before giving him a kiss.

Mary climbed into her bed and the thirteen-year-old snuggled down under the duvet.

"Love you, Mary."

"Love you, Dad."

* * *

 ** _Layup Point 2_**

 ** _Princes Risborough_**

 ** _23:30_**

It was 30 minutes short of midnight when the armoured Range Rovers pulled up beside the Land Rovers.

After some brief welcomes, they set down to the business of finalising their plans for the night. There was time for a quick bite, a hot drink, and a pee, but then it was time to head out. The teams faced one another for what they hoped what not be the last time as free citizens.

"For Harper!" they all declared.

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

 ** _23:30_**

Mary had no idea why she had come awake.

She checked the red LED numerals of her bedside clock to find that she had only been asleep for less than two hours. She groaned and lay back on her pillow, then closed her eyes – but only for a moment as she heard her bedroom door opening.

"Mary!"

"Ginny?"

"Quiet – the Palace is under attack. Here."

Mary found Ginny pushing a pistol with holster into her hand. By the feel of it, she recognised the Glock 19 pistol.

"It's loaded and one's up the spout," Ginny hissed. "Quickly, get some clothes on."

Mary was naked within a second as she shrugged off her pyjamas in the darkness. Ginny threw various items of clothing at her ward who quickly pulled on knickers, a sports bra, jeans with a belt, socks, lightweight walking boots, and a sweatshirt. The pistol holster clipped onto the belt and Ginny handed Mary three spare fifteen-round magazines.

"Where's my Dad?" Mary asked as she checked the pistol was ready to her satisfaction.

"Let's go find him . . . and Mary?"

"Yes."

"Shoot to kill."

..._...

Mary was shocked to find that the lights were out in the ante-room outside her bedroom – just the emergency lights were illuminated.

There should have been a policeman at the door to the corridor which led out of the Private Quarters, but nobody was there. They moved quickly towards her father's bedroom where they found Sergeant Pete Hind, the Prince's Personal Protection Officer who was standing at the partially open door of the Prince's bedroom. Behind him, the Prince waited, and a relived look crossed his face as he recognised his daughter. He did, however, raise an eyebrow when he saw the pistol in her hands – Sergeant Hind did the same.

"Later," Ginny suggested. "Let's make for the car garage. Mary?"

"Ginny."

"You got your special phone?"

"Of course!"

Ginny grinned at the impertinent response.

"Call and tell them that we need help."

Mary dialled Electra and hoped.

 _"Mary – we're in the middle of things,"_ came the tart response.

"Rigour, Belle. We're under attack at Kensington Palace."

 _"Oh, fuck!"_ Rigour responded. _"Hold!"_

Rigour was back a minute later.

 _"Twilight is altering course . . . ETA twelve minutes, out."_

"Twelve minutes," Mary advised.

"Okay – let's get the hell out of here."

..._...

Hind went first, pulling open the door which separated the main Palace from the Private Quarters.

On the ground, a policeman lay dead, his pistol unfired. Before anybody could say anything, they almost suffered the same fate as they were surprised by suppressed automatic gunfire which stitched across the doorway, narrowly missing Hind who shoved his principal to the floor and he dived over Ginny, Mary, and the Prince. Ginny covered their backs as Mary made for the adjacent wall with her father and she pushed a section of panelling which revealed a small doorway.

"Your escape for Belle?" the Prince chuckled.

"Found it when I was eleven – Ginny almost caught me using it when I was twelve, but she missed me by a whisker," Mary whispered as she pushed open the door. "Comes out about thirty feet down the passageway behind the tapestry of those weird monks."

Ginny pulled the door closed as the last person through, catching sight of a gunman wearing NVG and holding an automatic weapon. Ginny relayed the information to the others as they moved quickly down the very narrow passageway which was perfect for the lithe body of Mary, but a little cramped for the men and Ginny. Mary raised her right fist as the approached the end of the passageway and everybody stopped. Hind smiled down at Ginny approvingly – Ginny just shrugged but inside, she was proud of her ward who was obviously remembering her _Vengeance_ training. The youngster teased open a section of wooden panelling and they found themselves behind a large floor-to-ceiling tapestry which was about twelve-feet in width. Mary stuck her head out, only to be yanked back by Ginny.

"Patience, young one," Ginny hissed as she pushed the annoyed Mary behind her.

Ginny checked, and she found the passageway clear, so she moved out from under the tapestry and quickly waved everybody else to follow. They rushed down the corridor away from the Private Quarters and at least one gunman. Only to find that they had rushed directly into some more gunmen. Ginny pushed Mary to the floor while Hind did the same with the Prince. Ginny got the first shot in, dropping a gunman with a bullet to the chest – the bastard got back up again.

"Head shots!" Ginny advised as she ducked the suppressed automatic gunfire which reached out towards them.

Ginny and Hind returned fire, cautious about using up their limited ammunition. A gunman fell to a headshot, then another. Ginny pushed the Prince forwards along with Mary while Hind covered their withdrawal down another passageway which led to the north end of the Palace. Ginny was more than a little annoyed that they were not receiving backup from the dozen or so armed police officers present in the Palace. Her radio calls had all gone unanswered indicating something very bad or maybe it was simply a communications issue such as jamming. The Prince ran through the door into the next passageway with Mary close behind him and Ginny checking the way ahead. Hind backed up, dropping the last gunman and following on. Then Ginny sensed danger but not before she was struck in the side of the head by the butt of a rifle and she fell to the wooden floor of the passageway. The Prince stumbled, and he fell onto Ginny as the PPO was attempting to bring her pistol around despite her head swimming with pain.

Two gunshots rang out in the tight confines of the passageway.


	40. To Kidnap the PM

**_Thursday, October 20th, 2016_**

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

 ** _23:40_**

 _Two gunshots rang out in the tight confines of the passageway._

Sergeant Hind was stunned to see Her Royal Highness Princess Mary kneeling with one knee on the floor, her arms outstretched ahead of her with the Glock 19 aimed at where the gunman's forehead had been just moments before his body had slumped to the wooden floor of the passageway oozing blood from his partially destroyed head.

"Clear!" Princess Mary announced as she allowed her training to take over.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

Despite the very late hour, of the six people remaining aboard, just two were sleeping.

Olivia sat on the sofa on the main deck while her sister slept soundly beside her. Christopher was asleep below in his cabin while Jeremy sat opposite Olivia, tapping away at a tablet. Sarah and Lynn were on the bridge, keeping a lookout while they swung at their single anchor. They were on full EMCON – Emissions Control – and the radar was shut down along with anything else which could radiate an electronic signal to the world. The extensive ESM – Electronic Support Measures – fit on _CALEDONIA_ allowed her to scan for electronic emissions for miles around her. Other systems checked for lasers and heat blooms – indications for potential missile launches. They would also rely on the Mark One Eyeball.

It was cold out, but Sarah was happy to walk about on the Sky Deck from where she had an unobstructed view of the horizon all around her. She could see other vessels and the fairy-light-flashing of the buoyage which marked the shallows and the navigable channels. It was tiring though, as there were no other adults to take the watch. However, it would only be another six hours and then dawn would be approaching. The night was breezy, and the vessel rocked with the wind and the waves. The waves would crash lazily against the hull, splashing up and creating a comforting background noise. Lynn came up with some coffee, just as two very dark shapes came alongside CALEDONIA. One headed for the bow while the other headed aft. Neither had been seen nor heard by Sarah.

As the two women sipped at their steaming coffee, Sarah felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen and she shivered for a moment like somebody had just stepped on her grave.

* * *

 ** _HMS TRIUMPH_**

"Officer of the Watch, Sonar."

"Go ahead, Sonar."

"Transients on red zero-four-nine, sir. Sounded like a low-powered screw. Just faded out – heard it for about ten seconds, sir."

"Thank you, sonar."

The Office of the Watch (OOW) strode over to the chart table and he pressed a few buttons which brought up their current position and that of _CALEDONIA_. He traced a mental line from _TRIUMPH_ on a bearing of 049 to port. That was directly towards CALEDONIA.

"Up scope!"

The OOW checked around in a sweeping three-sixty – they were clear. He then settled on red zero-four-nine and he could just make out a single white light designating a vessel, of less than fifty metres in length, lying at anchor. Even with full magnification and the night sensors, he could see little even with eight feet of steel pipe sticking out of the ocean. Needless to say, the officer was a pragmatist and therefore he came to a single conclusion as he reached for the intercom and stabbed the button for the Captain's cabin.

 _"Captain to the Control Room!"_

* * *

 ** _A little earlier_**

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

 ** _23:25_**

It was definitely a first for the ten-year-old youngster.

She did not think that she had ever even set foot in a palace, let alone slept in one. For that matter, she had never known anybody really famous – except for Hit Girl, of course – and then she had met Her Royal Highness Princess Mary etcetera, etcetera. Her entire year had been turned upside down. She had started the year as a _Predator_ , suffering degrading treatment and worse. Then she had been cast adrift, literally, before being rescued and finding herself in the middle of _Vengeance_ and then she had rediscovered her family. A whole heap of adventures later, not least meeting the famous and very beautiful Hit Girl, she had come across a mysterious new vigilante called Belle. More amazingly, she had discovered Belle's true identity and somehow, they had become the best of friends.

So, there she was, sleeping in a Royal Palace alongside a real-life Royal Princess. Naturally, the change of scene had not helped Electra to sleep. She had had a wild day – the start of which had been emotional as she had watched all her friends go off to fight a barely winnable battle – however, she had a job to do and that was to protect her charge. She had not been able to sleep, although Mary had gone out like a light, happy to be back in her own bed and familiar surroundings – even if they were palatial. After an hour, Electra had slipped out of the bed and, still in her pyjamas, she had left the bedroom and gone for a stroll. With a nod at the armed police officer on duty, she had left the Private Quarters and wandered off to examine the corridors filled with ancient portraits of people long dead.

She paused at a window which looked down on the northern gardens. It was a tranquil October night in London. A bit chilly, but Electra was wearing her winter pyjamas which kept her warm and snug. She almost missed it, but as she turned away from the window, her peripheral vision picked up something down in the darkness. Her _Predator_ -trained mind told her that what she had glimpsed was wrong. She peered around the window-frame and studied the scene below her. She could see several dark shapes – man shapes that wore black combat gear. She also saw another shape being dragged into the shadows of some trees. Shit! Then, as she began to run back towards the Private Quarters, Electra realised what was going on and who those men were after.

Mary and her father.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

It was Olivia that sensed something amiss.

For various reasons, Olivia was still a little on edge and prone to sudden reactions to relatively minor events. The glass doors to starboard slid open and Olivia felt the chill from just behind her. Her hand instinctively moved to the object on her left hip. That was the moment Jessica chose to wake up and Olivia saw her eyes open and then focus on something behind her big sister before the eleven-year-old began to shake violently and Olivia felt fear surge through her at the look of sheer panic on her younger sister's face. Jeremy looked up and his own eyes went wide as Olivia was seized from behind and suddenly pandemonium descended on the deck. There was the bang of a pistol as Olivia fired off two rounds from her Glock 26 pistol which she had only been able to pull from the holster on her left hip with her right hand. The enormous man behind Olivia clad in black coveralls and a balaclava fell backwards, dropping Olivia back onto the sofa. Before Jeremy or Jessica could resist, they were seized just as Olivia was slapped across the face by a man approaching from her blind side and she fell to the deck unconscious. Duct tape was slapped across three mouths and their wrists were bound with plastic flex-cuffs. The two conscious youngsters were shoved to the deck hard enough to have Jessica sobbing from the pain, not just from the fear. Their unused weapons were taken away and Jessica looked at her unconscious sister taking in the vicious red mark on the girl's left cheek. The man who Olivia had shot did not last long. He gurgled, and blood splattered up from his mouth. Aerated blood – a lung had been punctured. The two bullets had passed under his ballistic armour.

"He's done for, boss," one of the men said as he checked the fallen attacker.

"Fuck!" the 'boss' growled angrily as he kicked the unconscious Olivia viciously in the thigh.

For the kids, the nightmare was just beginning as they both shook with fright.

..._...

Two decks above, Lynn turned as she heard a noise.

Her brain told her it was at least one muted gunshot. She turned for the gangway below, pulling out her Glock 19 pistol and she was heading back down below when she found somebody racing up the steps and she yelled out a warning as she snapped off two rounds. The invader was shoved backwards by the two close-range bullets, but he shrugged off the strikes and he continued upwards, slapping away Lynn's pistol with his SIG Sauer MPX-K SBR submachine gun. Behind Lynn, Sarah reached for her own Glock 19 pistol, only to have her hand slapped away as another dark shape appeared over the coaming of the sundeck from the bow. Sarah punched the shape but got no further than the man's body armour, so the punch actually hurt Sarah more than her attacker. She was roughly punched in the face and she fell back against the bar. She reached for something to fight with and her hand found a bottle of white wine which she brought around and took across the man's balaclava-clad head. The bottle sent the man reeling and he fell back against the gunwale before giving Sarah a kick to the chest forcing her backwards and down to the deck. She tried again to grab for her pistol but not before a boot struck her in the face and her vision faded to black.

A few feet away, Lynn crashed to the deck after valiantly fighting her own attacker. Blood splashed down her face from her nose and she was very, very angry. She knew that the men were there to kill them all, but she was not going to go down without a fight, and not with children aboard who were under her care. It had been a few years since Lynn Collins had been fully active in a physical sense, fighting off the bad guys who intended on hurting the United Kingdom and her allies. However, she had forgotten none of her training – and since becoming involved with _Vengeance_ , she had been bolstering her skills and regaining the high level of fitness she had always maintained. Jasper, for one, was very pleased with the 'fitter' Lynn! The first attacker was suffering slightly as Lynn struck him with feet, hands . . . any limb which would strike.

But before Lynn could permanently incapacitate her attacker, she was struck on the back of the head by the other man and she tumbled to the deck, her head reeling.

* * *

 ** _HMS TRIUMPH_**

"Flashes from Caledonia, sir!"

"Explain," Commander Adams ordered his subordinate.

"At least two flashes, sir – looked like muzzle flashes, I'm certain," the lieutenant replied as he stared through the periscope.

Commander Adams turned to a hovering sailor.

"Find out if Lieutenant Hodges is ready to deploy with his team. Tell him we will expose the forward hatch in ten minutes."

"Aye, aye, sir!" the sailor replied as he vanished forward, towards the torpedo room

* * *

 ** _Three miles northeast of Princes Risborough_**

 ** _Chequers_**

Naturally, the security around the Prime Minister's country residence was tight – and it was even tighter when she was actually in residence.

The immediate area was awash with police armed with G36C submachine-guns and dogs armed with razor-sharp fangs. As Crimson moved through the trees from the east, she was very aware of what lay between her and the large 16th-century manor house within which their target was sleeping. However, as she reached the edge of the trees, she noticed something on the ground a few feet ahead. She paused, raising her left fist to advise La Coccinelle there was an issue. Crimson cautiously approached with her SIG Sauer MPX-SD submachine-gun raised and she scanned the area through her NVGs. She was appalled by what she found, and she waved La Coccinelle forward.

"Sacré Dieu!"

"This is Crimson – I've just found a RaSP officer and his dog – both have had their throats almost ripped out."

 _"This is Drift – we've got a guy here with his neck snapped – RaSP."_

 _"I think we have another team on the board,"_ Akuma commented from the Layup Point.

"Axis?" Crimson asked.

 _"You can bet on it,"_ Sleuth replied sourly from half-a-mile away, where he and Stripe waited with the vehicles.

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

There was no time for congratulations or for comments, so Sergeant Hind moved beyond Mary checking the corridor ahead.

Mary's father went next, smiling at his daughter as he walked past, but with a dark look at the dead man who his daughter had just killed. He knew that he would need to have a talk with Mary at a later point in time as her cold expression concerned him. Ginny nudged Mary on the shoulder and the girl jumped back to her feet and she moved off, keeping the pistol low considering that there were friendlies ahead of her. The group moved down the next corridor and there found an injured police officer – he was unconscious and bleeding, but he was breathing. A little further on, they found another police officer – only he was dead, but with about a dozen empty cartridges scattered on the floor around him but no sign of the enemy.

However, the absence of the enemy did not last for long as they dropped down to the ground floor.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

Lynn had tried to continue the fight but before she had been able to regain her feet, she had found the cold steel of a suppressor against her right temple -wisely, she reasoned that she was no good to the kids dead.

"You bastards have no idea what you've let yourselves in for!" Lynn exclaimed as she was shoved onto the floor beside the kids – she was already flex-cuffed which prevented her from rubbing her very sore head and she had no idea if she was bleeding.

"Shut up, bitch!" one of the men growled as he slapped duct tape over Lynn's mouth.

Three more men appeared.

"Boat's clear, boss!" one said.

Two more men appeared dragging the unconscious Sarah who was already flex-cuffed, and she was dumped on the floor next to Lynn. Jessica looked over at Lynn with a confused expression, but Lynn gently shook her head. She was thinking the very same thing: where was Christopher?

"They are not all here!" the 'boss' exclaimed.

"They must have gone ashore. We were expecting around twenty; instead, we've found five."

"Once three and eight are finished with the charges, we leave – we can run the numbers up the flagpole then."

"Right, boss."

* * *

 ** _Chequers_**

It appeared that their work of infiltrating the complex was mostly done.

It was a simple matter of following the dead bodies and deactivated security features, then things took a turn for the worst as first the heaven's opened and then there was a massive explosion somewhere off to the east.

 _"This is Prowl – a police Transit just blew up a dozen yards from the main road, blocking the main entrance!"_

"Fucking bastards are escalating and cutting off reinforcements. Scourge – keep an eye open," Sleuth directed.

The rain helped things along and the two snatch teams closed on the main building. Victor Alpha made for the staff entrance at the west end of the buildings while Victor Bravo headed directly for the northern side of the building. More bodies were found as they went showing that they were on the right track. It looked very much as though the 'kidnap' was rapidly turning into a rescue mission.

As they closed, gunfire could be heard from within the building indicating that the armed officers were engaging the hostiles.

* * *

 ** _SCOURGE_**

A thousand feet above and five miles out, _SCOURGE_ with Raptor and Q aboard turned towards the target.

They were _the_ air support, now that _TWILIGHT_ had been diverted towards London on a rescue mission. That had been very bad timing but there was nothing anybody could do but send help. The light attack helicopter was armed with dual M134D miniguns for the night's operation, allowing plenty of damage to be caused, should that be called upon.

Raptor _really_ wanted to give them a try.

* * *

 ** _TWILIGHT_**

The helicopter swept over Shepherd's Bush and was just two minutes from Kensington Palace.

Aboard _TWILIGHT_ , Scorpion, Chief, and La Terreaur prepared for a hot reception when they arrived to rescue their friends. Scorpion wished that she was supporting the attack at Chequers but hers was the only helicopter with back seats. With La Terreaur occupying only one of the six seats in the rear, they could carry five more aboard. Scorpion altered course to bring her around into Kensington Gardens from where she would be able to get a good view of the area around the Palace. The helicopter was armed with her usual pair of 12.7-millimetre machine gun pods and triple 70-millimetre rocket tubes mounted under each pod.

Scorpion was itching to get back at the people who had murdered her sister and each bullet would be carefully used.

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

The small group almost collided with one another as they stopped on entering the King's Gallery.

The long gallery with a wooden floor had tall windows running along one side, with large portraits opposite. However, it was not the portraits or the windows which had caught their attention. In the scattered illumination of the emergency lighting, a small shape had run into the gallery from a doorway on the right towards the far end. The shape wore pink pyjamas and despite that apparent limitation succeeded in disarming a man clad in black combat gear, turning the appropriated suppressed SIG Sauer MPX-K SBR submachine gun around and sending a three-round burst into the man, killing him instantly. The pink-pyjama-clad shape gunned down a second attacker before three more turned on the girl. The girl was fast, and she dodged the strikes at her person. She struck back, hard, using her fists and the butt of the submachine gun in her hands. Mary had never seen her move like that – she never thought it was actually possible for such a slight girl to be a threat to grown men. Then a knife appeared, and blood began to fly as first one and then another carotid artery was exposed to the air resulting in two jets of hot blood which splattered across the wooden floor of the gallery.

"Ewww!" Mary commented.

The final man was shot dead with his own pistol and a bullet through the heart.

..._...

"Where have _you_ been?" Mary scolded as Electra sprinted towards them, the submachine gun held firmly in her hands.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk."

"How did you get the gun?"

"I cut the straps."

"You had a knife in your pyjamas?"

"Duh . . . I'm a _Predator_!" Electra replied as if that answered everything.

Mary scowled at the disrespectful behaviour. At dinner, Electra had been all prim and proper and very un-Electra. However, Mary mused, she figured that there was a time and a place for Royal pleasantries.

"Your Royal Highness," Electra offered with a nod, "we need to get you to safety."

Mary scowled as the ten-year-old grinned toothily up at the older girl. Mary realised that Electra was mocking her, so she grinned back. Sergeant Hind led his protectee forwards while Electra waved her own protectee forwards.

"After you, Your Royal Highness."

Mary scowled again as she moved forwards.

"With your pistol skills, I'd rather follow on behind," Electra quipped.

"Hey! I killed a guy back there!"

"As I said, with your pistol skills, I'd rather follow on behind," Electra persisted.

"You're such a bitch, Electra . . . sorry, Daddy."

"Come on," Ginny chuckled as she pushed Mary forwards.

Electra just grinned.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

Christopher was not happy; the boy had heard sounds as somebody had climbed aboard at the bow.

He had hidden and then he had heard gunshots. Christopher was eleven-years-old and very inquisitive. During his time aboard, the boy had scoured the vessel from stem to stern and keel to radar. He knew almost every inch of the craft. As such, when it came to hide, knew the escape routes, built into the craft to aid escape in an emergency situation. He made good use of those until he had emerged into the boat garage. There he had slunk under the RIB. It appeared that the boat garage gad already been searched as nobody came looking for him. A man did pass through into the engine room with a small pack – a pack which he was no longer carrying when he left the engine room.

Christopher had heard some screams, earlier on, but then nothing – the lack of sound worried the boy immensely and he felt very alone. Once the man had reached the deck above, Christopher headed into the engine room. He looked around the pristine, white-painted engine room with its chrome railings as he walked down the steel deck plates. As far as he could tell, there was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see – but then he was neither an engineer nor an explosives specialist. Okay, he reasoned, if he wanted to sink a yacht, where might he plant explosives? Fuel tanks? Engines? Bilges? The engines were water-cooled . . . destroy the water inlet pipe which had to be large for the massive diesel engines and you could sink the vessel very quickly.

He pulled up a small hatch in the deck plates and he peered into the bilges – bingo! But before he could do anything, he was yanked out of the hatch and dumped onto the steel deck plates. He looked up into the balaclavered face of the man who had previously been in the engine room. The eleven-year-old boy tried to be brave, but he was scared stiff. He pulled out his Glock 26 only for the man to laugh as he pointed the business end of his SIG Sauer MPX-K SBR submachine gun at the boy's head. However, before the man could pull his trigger, there was an unholy snapping sound as the man's neck was wrenched around almost 180-degrees. Christopher figured that the guy was probably dead before he hit the deck. An enormous man about six-foot tall and about the same wide smiled down at Christopher.

"You're safe, boy – leave the rest to us."

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

As soon as they were outside, they ran east, towards the Gardens.

The night was very cold, and Electra was shivering in only her pyjamas and slippers. Gunfire erupted out from behind them as they ran away from the Palace. The roar of an approaching helicopter could be heard over to their left and then the downdraft hit them as _TWILIGHT_ flew slowly overhead and then pivoted to land on the open grass at the edge of Kensington Gardens. The small group were very happy to see a way out, only they still had about eighty yards to go and there were men determined to prevent them from escaping. As they stopped for a moment before running out into the open, Mary was shocked when Electra suddenly lunged at her as if she was giving the older girl a hug, wrapping her arms around Mary. But then Mary heard a pair of gunshots and she felt Electra's full weight on her body before she felt a stinging on her left side. Electra fell to the ground and Mary instinctively touched her stinging side – her hand felt wet and it came away red.

Mary's head began to swoon and then all went black as the Princess fainted.

* * *

 ** _Chequers_**

Victor Alpha – Crimson and La Coccinelle – found an open doorway and a dead police officer at the east end of the complex where the staff resided.

As soon as they were inside the building, the stench of death and of gunpowder assailed the nostrils of each vigilante. It was the smell of battle. They moved forward, looking out for the enemy and for friendlies alike. The old buildings were a labyrinth of corridors which could easily confuse the unwary. As they moved, they found more death and destruction as previously locked doors showed evidence of small explosive charges being used to 'unlock' the doors. They did find two of the enemy – they were already dead – but they were well-equipped which indicated a professional enemy. Crimson and La Coccinelle moved slowly from room to room checking and clearing each space before moving on. They found themselves getting closer to an obvious gunfight which appeared to be on the next floor above.

However, not all the enemy were in the gunfight. As La Coccinelle checked a doorway into the next room, she heard voices and then two men, armed to the teeth appeared. She promptly shot one in the head with a moment's thought while Crimson took down the other with a well-placed shot to his head. Two more men appeared and the two female vigilantes found themselves embroiled in their own gunfight as both sides shot from cover. Neither could get a decent shot at the enemy who were using a doorway for cover. The thick stone walls, clad in wood panelling easily absorbed the bullets preventing any passing through. While that assisted La Coccinelle and Crimson in their own doorway, it also assisted the enemy. It was a stalemate and both sides were just wasting ammunition. However, the French vigilante could think on her feet. She dug into a pouch on her belt and she pulled out what looked like a yo-yo. It was red and about four inches in diameter. Crimson looked on questioningly as her companion pressed two buttons on the device before she whirled the device around her head on a length of string before she released it. Crimson watched the device fly through the air, striking the doorframe above the two enemy gunman and rebounding through before vanishing from sight.

La Coccinelle ducked as there was a large explosion and the incoming gunfire ceased.

..._...

Over on the north side of the building, Victor Bravo – Drift and Nemesis – were engaged in their own firefight with four gunmen who were well-armed and who knew how to use their weapons.

Initially, they were pinned down, but the ever-crafty Nemesis was able to move undercover of Drift's gunfire to a position where she was able to shoot first one and then another gunman in the head, splattering the centuries-old wood panelling with blood, brains, and little bits of bone. The distraction allowed Drift to run forwards and engage the remaining pair of gunmen from a more favourable position. From another part of the house, they heard a loud 'crump' like a hand grenade going off.

It appeared to be a race for the Prime Minister – but would they get there in time?

..._...

She had been rudely awakened from a very deep sleep.

Her protection officer had shaken her none too gently and she had bolted awake.

"We need to move, ma'am – we're under attack."

"Oh, for the love of God," the British Prime Minister complained as she dressed quickly. "Couldn't they have waited until the bloody morning?"

"Would you like me to request that they come back in a few hours?" Sergeant Samuel Heynes, the Prime Minister's personal protection officer deadpanned.

"Could you?"

After dressing, the Prime Minister followed her protection officer out of the suite and down the corridor. They made it about twenty feet before three of the Prime Minister's protective detail stopped the pair. The three men were armed with Heckler and Koch G36C submachine guns and Glock 17 pistols.

"No way down, ma'am – front and back stairs are kill zones. We have no way down at the moment."

"Who are they?" the Prime Minister demanded.

"Unsure at this point, ma'am, only, they are very organised and well-armed."

"Backup?"

"Our communications have been cut, ma'am – no help is coming."

"So, our last stand is here on the landing?"

"Yes, ma'am."

..._...

Her protective detail was dropping by the sounds of the shooting down below.

The previous few weeks had been a nightmare for the head of Her Majesty's Government. She had faced disruption and disharmony across the Government. Three people had voiced unease at what was happening within the country – and they had all suddenly retired for public life. She had not believed a word of their resignation letters – it had been pure tripe. The Government was under siege and it was proving very difficult to understand who could be trusted and who was working for the other side. She was also distinctly unhappy with how the one organisation which could have helped was being hounded to ground. She knew very little about the shadowy organisation run off the books by MI5. She knew that they worked for the government when it appealed to both parties to pool their resources. However, right at that moment, they might have been able to assist with whatever was going on in the country.

Whoever was behind the goings on was escalating in a major way. They were targeting her directly. She was aware that Prince Robert had been targeted but he had escaped unharmed. She was fully aware that he had been voicing deep concerns over what was going on right under the nose of the government but what appeared to be going unseen. Royalty was not supposed to comment directly about the way the government ran the country, only, the Prince was correct – the government was failing to protect the country. Which, by extension, meant that she, the Prime Minister, was failing to protect the country. She had betrayed _Vengeance_ and she had betrayed the country. Unfortunately, as it appeared, she was to pay for that betrayal by dying that very morning. Even as she sat on the floor, surrounded by stone and wood to protect her from stray bullets, she felt anger towards everybody and should she have a chance to strike back, then she would with everything she could muster.

Somebody would pay for attacking her government.

..._...

The Prime Minister was hauled out of her thoughts as the incessant gunfire came closer and closer.

Men were coming up both staircases and her detail was getting ravaged – four men were down and the ammunition for the remainder was running low. Without some form of backup, they would all be dead in the next few minutes. Only, no backup was forthcoming; she knew that. Then there was a loud explosion from the room below which was a surprise – there were no protection officers left down below, so why would the enemy, whoever they were, be setting off explosives? Then everything went bad – very bad – as flashbangs were thrown and the attackers closed on the remaining men of the Prime Minister's protective detail. The Prime Minister herself, she had retreated into her bedroom – a last refuge from the danger. The shooting came closer and closer until it was right outside her door. Despite her outward demeanour, she feared for her life and she was very scared of what was going on right outside her bedroom door. There was a loud bang, followed by a crashing sound, and the door flew open.

The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom stood up to face her attacker. The man who strode through the door was alone and he seemed very pleased with what he was doing. The sixty-year-old woman knew that her life was over and that she only had seconds left. Unbidden, she took a few paces back until she found herself against the wall beside her bed. Her slayer took a pace forwards, towards his target and he brought up his pistol which he pointed at the head of the woman before him. The woman straightened up and she glared back at the man.

"Time to die . . ." the man growled with a look of supreme pleasure as he squeezed the trigger.

..._...

"Just what I was going to say," an electronically enhanced voice countered.

The next minute was a complete blur for the Prime Minister as her bedroom suddenly became very busy and very full. A dark-blue shape dove through the doorway and thrust itself in between the woman and the pistol while a dark-grey shape dived for the Prime Minister, grabbing her and pulling her down to the floor. Both hit the ground as the gunman's pistol fired off its round. The bullet cannoned into the dark-blue vigilante just as another form, this one crimson, followed the other and put several bullets into the gunman who fell into an ever-growing pool of his own blood. The man in the dark-blue combat suit stood up and he helped the woman to her feet.

"Are you injured, Prime Minister?"

"No, I am fine, thanks to you," the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom replied. "Drift, am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you for your assistance, young man. You too, Crimson, and I believe Nemesis."

"Not at all, ma'am," Crimson and Nemesis replied in their own electronically enhanced voices.

"La Coccinelle, Madam Prime Minister," La Coccinelle offered. " _Sabre_ and _Scimitar_ are waiting for us. We must move and get you to safety."

"My protection detail?"

"All dead, but for one injured sergeant, ma'am – Stripe is evacuating him now."

"Oh, my God!" the Prime Minister exclaimed as she was escorted from her bedroom.

The scene was one of carnage with many dead bodies, both Protection Command officers and the unknown gunmen. Speed was of the essence as _SCOURGE_ was reporting enemy reinforcements coming from the south. The small group made it outside after a harrowing trip for the Prime Minister past body after body. As promised, the two armoured Range Rover Sentinel 4x4s were waiting.

"Move over, short-round," Drift directed once the Prime Minister was aboard _SCIMITAR_ along with Nemesis as Stripe shifted seats.

Behind them, La Coccinelle and Crimson climbed aboard _SABRE_ where Sergeant Heynes was being tended to by Sleuth. The two vehicles accelerated away as _SCOURGE_ flew overhead before turning to the south.

* * *

 ** _Kensington Palace_**

 ** _TWILIGHT_**

Scorpion looked out of her cockpit just as the wheels touched down.

She could see five people approaching. Three were adults and two were youngsters. She could also tell that it was a hot landing zone as she could see the flashes of gunfire from behind the small group. Behind her, La Terreaur jumped out armed with a SIG Sauer SPX-P submachine pistol and she sent short bursts past the approaching group. Then Scorpion was shocked to see the two youngsters go down. La Terreaur bolted forwards to cover the group as the fallen youngsters were gathered up by the Prince and his bodyguard leaving Ginny to add her own covering fire to that of La Terreaur.

Once all were aboard, and La Terreaur signalled all was clear, Scorpion hauled the helicopter into the air. She listened to La Terreaur explain what was happening in the rear compartment of the helicopter and then she got onto the radio, on a specially encrypted channel.

"Commander, we have injuries – Rigour and Belle. Over."

There was a short pause.

" _Twilight_ , Haig. Go for the _Westminster_ \- she's moored alongside the _Belfast_ – they're ready for you. Over."

"Copy that – making for the _Westminster_ now. _Twilight_ out."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _RaSP = Royalty and Specialist Protection_


	41. The Return of The Vigilante

**_Friday, October 21st, 2016_**

 ** _Central London, England_**

 ** _HMS WESTMINSTER_**

The Royal Navy Type 23 frigate, _HMS WESTMINSTER_ , was moored alongside the second world war light cruiser, _HMS BELFAST_.

The 4,900-tonne warship and her crew of 185 men and women were alongside for a visit to their capital city. Naturally, after an evening out on the town, they were very unhappy to be awoken soon after midnight by alarms sounding throughout the vessel. Very quickly, the crew dressed and reported to their stations. The operations room was manned, and magazines were opened to load the 30-millimetre remotely-operated guns on each beam. Within fifteen minutes, the Type 997 Artisan radar atop the main mast began to revolve, scanning the night sky for miles around, detecting, cataloguing and classifying everything it found. The thirty-two GWS-35 Sea Ceptor missiles in the vertical launch magazine at the bow were enabled and prepared for possible launch against incoming aircraft or missiles. Royal Marines ran across to the _BELFAST_ and they set up a GPMG to guard the pier which led aboard the _BELFAST_ and thence to the _WESTMINSTER_. An armed sea boat was put into the water to guard _WESTMINSTER_ from the water.

The entire vessel was ready for anything which might come their way.

* * *

Within the Specialist Operations directorate of London's Metropolitan Police Service, or more specifically, Protection Command, there was total chaos.

Coming almost within minutes of each other, the reports of the two attacks had come in causing intense consternation. An attack was reported underway on Kensington Palace, although initial inquiries for more information had been blocked by inconsistent communications. The same for Chequers which was much more worrying. As far as they could tell, there was a very open attack underway on the British Government and Royalty. The biggest problem was where to target available resources. It did not help that potential operations were being hampered by interfering ministers and generally low morale.

Two groups were rapidly assembled – one group sped west, towards Chequers while another made their way towards Kensington Palace. The group headed west was led by Sergeant Joseph Beck and he was angry – he knew many of the men on the Prime Ministers protective detail, and by all accounts, there was a vicious firefight underway there with all access tot eh estate blocked by burning vehicles. It had been a difficult decision, but the Prime Minister had been deemed more important than those in residence at Kensington Palace. He headed a convoy of four red BMW X5 police 4x4s from Protection Command with eight motorcycle outriders from the Special Escort Group (SEG) providing escort. They headed up the A5, then the M1, and onto the A41, racing along at over ninety miles per hour.

As they crossed the M25, Beck received an important phone call from a very senior officer in Special Branch – a Commander Haig.

* * *

 ** _HMS WESTMINSTER  
& TWILIGHT_**

Scorpion expertly flew _TWILIGHT_ at forty feet along the River Thames, slowing before she ran into Tower Bridge.

As the Agusta-Westland AW109LUH helicopter pivoted in the air, turning one-eighty degrees, the undercarriage dropped down. Smoothly, Scorpion translated sideways and gently deposited the three-wheeled undercarriage onto _WESTMINSTER'S_ flight deck in exactly the right location. She waved forward the waiting flight deck crew and the medical staff. Two stretchers were laid out on the deck and both were quickly occupied by a struggling Electra and an unconscious Mary. As the loaded stretchers vanished into the cavernous aircraft hangar which was partially filled with a folded Merlin helicopter, Ginny, the Prince, and Sergeant Heynes followed on behind.

Scorpion increased the pitch of her rotor blades and _TWILIGHT_ leapt into the air before heading northwest at high speed.

..._...

Somewhere towards two that morning, an urgent pipe had been made, and the flight deck was prepared for a helicopter landing and the medical staff were ordered to prepare to receive wounded aboard.

The flight deck officer had been very surprised to find a 'black' helicopter landing on the flight deck and Royalty appearing from the back of the helicopter. The medical officer, Lieutenant Ed Harris immediately recognised the Prince, as well as his daughter. However, the Prince was uninjured, and a cursory inspection had shown the Princess to have nothing more than a flesh wound. His attentions were directed at the little girl with blood covering her torso while one of his female staff treated the Princess who was still unconscious. The young girl could not have been older than ten and she exhibited some nasty scars which became apparent once her blood-soaked pyjamas were removed, and the blood thinned.

The first bullet had entered her abdomen from the rear an inch or two above the left hip. With some swift surgery, the bullet was removed having been found embedded up near her left lung. It was a miracle that the bullet had not clipped anything important – still, the girl would find walking very sore for a little while as her hip muscle _was_ nicked. As for the second bullet, that one had entered slightly above the first and passed straight through, exiting to the front above her left hip and adjacent to a vicious-looking scar which ran across the girl's front down to her left thigh. Electra Haig was made comfortable in one of the two beds in the sickbay while the Princess resided in the other. Both girls were unconscious and would be for a few hours yet thanks to the painkillers.

Meanwhile, up in the Captain's day cabin, the Prince had met with the _WESTMINSTER'S_ captain, Commander Hugh Drake. Considering that he was busy, he had allocated his day cabin for the Prince's use and there was a Royal Marines Commando posted outside for privacy.

"Your daughter is sleeping, Your Highness; the wound needing nothing more than a clean and a bandage. However, I am certain that it will be painful when she wakes up. As for the other girl. . ."

"Electra," Ginny prompted.

"Electra – she has had a bullet removed and the wound from another cleaned and dressed. She, too, has a painful time ahead of her."

"Electra saved my daughter – put herself between her and the bullets," the Prince explained.

"Would I be pushing my luck to suggest that Electra was a part of _Vengeance_?" the commander asked. "My medical officer explained that the girl had significant scarring from existing injuries, not to mention a knife in a scabbard on her left ankle. I am also aware that you were dropped off by a _Vengeance_ helicopter."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that suggestion, Commander," the Prince replied with a grin. "However, should you assume the positive, then I would not dissuade you from that assumption."

"Have no fear, Your Highness, this ship is behind you and _Vengeance_. Whatever is happening in this country, we back the Government."

"Thank you, Commander, that is a comforting thought."

* * *

 ** _Chequers_**

 _SABRE_ and _SCIMITAR_ headed east but they were forced to turn south as a pair of Nissan Navara 4x4s headed in their direction, flanking the armoured SUVs, spewing out lead from a mounted machine-gun in the load bay.

 _SCOURGE_ swept in and Raptor opened fire on the two approaching vehicles with his mini-guns. Bullets struck the lead vehicle, shredding the bodywork and ripping through the passenger compartment. The second vehicle had veered away from its twin but also away from _Vengeance_. However, the vehicle soon stopped a distance from its destroyed twin and a man jumped out of the cab and he raised a long weapon, shaped like a tube. Before _SCOURGE_ could come around, he fired off an anti-armour rocket which powered towards _SABRE_ , but Crimson jinked at the last second allowing the round to streak past and impact a large tree before exploding violently. Crimson triggered off two pairs of the smoke mortars, surrounding the vehicle in thick smoke which under darkness made the vehicle all but invisible. Behind them, _SCIMITAR_ followed suit with its own mortars, adding to the expanding smoke cloud.

The two luxury armoured 4x4s accelerated over the wet grass, skidding momentarily in the mud before the four-wheel-drive system took control and kept the vehicle pointing in the desired direction as it made for safety. Random gunfire erupted out of the trees, the bullets slamming into _SCIMITAR_ but causing no damage to the heavily armoured vehicle which ignored the bullets like an elephant versus dozens of mosquitos. The smoke prevented accurate targeting but eventually, the smoke began to dissipate in the rain revealing the racing 4x4s as they reached the eastern exit. _SCOURGE_ engaged the burning police Transit van and blew it mostly out of the way, making an escape from the compound possible.

With _SABRE_ leading, they smashed through the wreckage, closely followed by _SCIMITAR_.

..._...

They immediately took a right onto Dunsmore Lane and they powered down the narrow road, heading east.

Above them, _SCOURGE_ followed, providing escort. After a mile, they took a right onto the A413 London Road. They kept up a high speed – relatively easy at such an early hour as the roads were all but empty. Three miles to the south, Crimson was surprised to find a sea of blue lights ahead of them and they found a pair of roundabouts blocked off by SEG motorcycle riders, all armed with machine guns as opposed to the usual pistols. Red BMW X5 4x4s interceded themselves into the convoy providing a blue light escort with the motorcycles riding on ahead, clearing junctions as they sped the forty miles to London. They did not stop for anything, taking junctions irrelevant of the red or green state of the traffic lights. _Vengeance_ and the Prime Minister breathed a sigh of relief as they realised that they were mostly safe.

At least until one of the escorting BMW X5 4x4s blew up forty yards ahead of _SABRE_.

* * *

 ** _Kidlington, Oxfordshire_**

 ** _Thames Valley Police Control Room_**

The man from the Home Office was making his presence felt.

Despite the presence of a very angry Chief Constable, the man was insisting that the Firearms Response Team Unit be on hand to apprehend _Vengeance_ with the assistance of the Roads Policing Unit.

The Chief Constable was very unhappy about it, but he had his orders, and they came direct from the Home Office.

* * *

 ** _M40 Motorway  
Junction 2_**

The rocket had come out of nowhere and destroyed the leading BMW X5 4x4.

The vehicle was burning steadily, and nobody had escaped the explosion or inferno. Immediately behind, another X5 had narrowly avoided a collision and was now stopped on the central reservation at the edge of the roundabout which formed the junction over the motorway. Behind that X5, _SABRE_ took cover on the grass verge to the left with another X5 and _SCIMITAR_ following suit while the remaining X5 took up position to cover _SABRE_ and the Prime Minister. The eight motorcycles of the Special Escort Group were scattered. Three were in the rear and they provided a rear perimeter on the A355, northbound. Two riders were immediately engaged in a firefight on the eastbound M40 slip road where the burning wreck of two cars blocked access onto the motorway. Another rider had been blown off his machine by the exploding X5 and his machine was shredded with shrapnel. Of the remaining pair, one was taking cover behind the X5 on the central reservation while the other took cover amongst the trees on the inside of the roundabout.

There appeared to be at least seven groups of enemies – as figured out by the incoming gunfire and the FLIR aboard _SCOURGE_ which was warily circling the ambush site. Another pair of burning vehicles blocked the southern flyover, preventing escape in that direction. It was obvious that the open routes were a death trap. They had to get onto the motorway, that was the _only_ way to escape the carnage and get the Prime Minister to safety. _SCOURGE_ made a vain attempt to attack the team with the rockets, as yet another was fired at the besieged Protection Command officers and _Vengeance_. As the small attack helicopter took up position to 'hose down' the copse of trees, it came under attack from a stream of machine-gun tracers erupting from a point beside the exit slip road from the eastbound carriageway of the M40 motorway. Then, the night was rent by a large explosion as a streak of light terminated at the rocket team and the copse of trees was blown apart.

 _TWILIGHT_ streaked across the junction at over one-hundred knots before coming around tightly to target a second rocket where possible.

..._...

For those members of the law-abiding public who were out on the M40, that morning, in the early hours, Junction 2 was a maelstrom of sound and light.

Blue strobe lights, white headlights, orange flames, gunfire, shouting, explosions – it was a veritable party with some assuming somebody was setting off fireworks a few weeks too early. Unfortunately for some of those law-abiding citizens, they had been caught up in the ambush by being in the proverbial wrong place at the wrong time. Crimson and Stripe were engaging the enemy with their submachine guns. Ammunition was not a huge problem as the two Range Rovers carried copious amounts, so the pair sent short bursts at anything which moved outside of the safe zone around the Prime Minister. Not that the fire was one way; the incoming fire was both accurate and heavy. The forward BMW X5 was peppered with bullet holes and to be brutally honest, was probably never driving away from its current location under its own power without major work.

They could not remain there for long as enemy reinforcements were undoubtedly on their way. _SCOURGE_ and _TWILIGHT_ both engaged the enemy forces with gunfire, using their FLIR systems to pick them out amidst the trees and undergrowth. The local fire brigade had arrived in response to the burning cars, closely followed by ambulances and paramedics. They were mostly stopped by the SEG officers before they could become embroiled in the action. Unfortunately, at least one ambulance came under attack and was forced to flee the scene at speed. _SCOURGE_ had identified the enemy vehicles and Raptor took perverse joy in shredding six vehicles parked around the junction.

"We need to move," Drift shouted. "I have an idea – nobody beats a Range Rover off-road!"

 _SABRE_ and _SCIMITAR_ led the way at speed with the two surviving BMW X5 4x4s following along behind. With the eastbound slip road blocked, SABRE sped down the slip road but took a hard right into the bushes and the heavy four-wheel-drive vehicle used its bulk to push through and down the slope towards the motorway. SCIMITAR dived after its twin followed by the X5s which struggled with the terrain, but they made it. At the bottom, they slid onto the tarmac and the four vehicles accelerated away from the ambush, heading east for London. Four of the SEG motorcycles had been able to follow the off-road vehicles with care and they were soon accelerating after the 4x4s.

The two helicopters took up position to protect the convoy.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

For Jessica it was with intense relief that she laid eyes on her step-brother.

The boy stood on the after deck like nothing was happening.

"Hey, motherfuckers!" he called out and Jessica figured that the boy had gone mad.

The two gunmen who had been keeping an eye on them ran at the boy, only for them both to die. Jessica was shocked to see each writhing for a few seconds, each with a commando knife hilt-deep in their throats. Christopher ran forward, and he began to sever the plastic bindings and release everybody.

"Stay down until we've cleared the vessel," one of the newcomers growled.

Their weapons were lying on a table and everybody quickly rearmed. Olivia was conscious but in a lot of pain. She forced a smile for Christopher.

"Well done," she said.

"They're SBS – Special Boat Service – from a submarine," Christopher explained excitedly. "I think there're six aboard."

Gunfire erupted from forward but only for a second before there was silence and a few minutes later, one of the men, clad in a black wetsuit, appeared.

"Caledonia is all yours, ma'am," he said to Sarah. "We've removed the explosives from the bilge where the boy found them."

"Thank you, err . . ."

"We were never here," the obvious leader said with a grin. "We just happened to be passing."

"The men?" Sarah asked as she looked at the empty deck where two men had died.

"Feeding the fucking fishes."

* * *

 ** _Kidlington, Oxfordshire_**

 ** _Thames Valley Police Control Room_**

The Chief Constable had had enough.

His men were being directed to intercept the convoy of 4x4s which sped down the M40. On the cameras which covered the motorway network he could see evidence of what could only be another ambush waiting to happen. He had seen the Prime Minister's face on one of the cameras at the earlier ambush site. His marked BMW 530d estates were converging on the convoy with the aim of stopping it. He turned to the control room and he began to issue orders, grabbing hold of a radio.

"All Thames Valley units – this is Tango Victor. Assist _Vengeance_ , repeat, assist _Vengeance_ – detain anybody interfering with _Vengeance_ in the course of their activities."

"You can't do that!" the man supposedly from the Home Office roared. "Stop that convoy!"

"Start with him," the Chief Constable ordered.

The 'Home Office' man made an attempt to go for a pistol. He was rapidly subdued by half-a-dozen uniformed officers and he found himself handcuffed within seconds. As the disgruntled man watched, the eight marked police vehicles formed an impenetrable barrier between the ambush and the convoy until they were safely past – the Firearms Response Team Unit attacking the ambush site.

The M40 soon became the A40 as the convoy entered the outskirts of London.

* * *

 ** _SABRE_**

For Crimson, it had been a major worry when she had seen the approaching police cars.

It seemed that they were finally receiving assistance in their fight to protect the Prime Minister. They were met by other police units as they entered London amid reports of suspect vehicles approaching the convoy and it was proving difficult to know who to trust as the convoy found itself being chased by various vehicles which tried to force the convoy off the road. Two of the Special Escort Group motorcycles had crashed, leaving just the one survivor. One of the attacking vehicles was a Metropolitan Police Range Rover – only the occupants were not in uniform. _SABRE_ took a beating, as did _SCIMITAR_ before the errant Range Rover crashed after Crimson forced it off the road and into a parked truck – the Range Rover stopped dead. Later, as a police BMW overtook, the young vigilante thought that it was all over – but only for a moment as instead, the BMW raced ahead and stopped the traffic at the next junction, allowing them to blast through the red light at speed while another police officer waved them through the junction with a broad grin on his face before the BMW moved to block the pursuing vehicles.

"Go for it, _Vengeance_!" the police sergeant driving the BMW muttered as he climbed out of his car to face the angry mercenaries who were _not_ happy.

* * *

 ** _Central London  
Whitehall_**

 ** _SCIMITAR_**

It was most definitely a first for Drift as he drove SCIMITAR into London.

Ahead of them, they had six Special Escort Group motorcycles, with four more plus a Protection Command Range Rover close behind and they were all redefining the term: 'close escort'. The extra protection had joined the convoy at the Bayswater Road as they passed Hyde Park. The convoy was moving at a significant speed through the streets, the DPG motorcycles racing on ahead at high speed to clear a route through the traffic. They never stopped as they drove deeper into London. They raced through Hyde Park Corner with the early morning traffic beginning to build. Constitution Hill was taken at speed as they swept past Buckingham Palace and drive down The Mall towards Whitehall. Their route had been carefully planned and they cut through St James' Park at Marlborough Road, exiting the park and belting across Horse Guard's Parade before making a right turn onto Whitehall towards the Cenotaph.

They had arrived.

* * *

For the support teams, it was a relief to hear that they had been successful – despite the mission having changed totally, midway through the night.

Each team left the area and they made their way in a stealthy manner back towards the sea, avoiding drawing unwanted attention to themselves, fully aware that the enemy was still at large and very angry. Reports had come in concerning the attack on _CALEDONIA_ , not to mention the injured members from Kensington Palace. All through the long drive back to London, the Prime Minister had listened to everything that had happened to _Vengeance_ and everything that they had gone through. She was amazed that they had not thrown in the towel weeks before, but she was very pleased that they had not, or she would be dead, and the country would be in the hands of some uncompromising zealot. She herself had been stunned to hear of the attack on the Royal family but grateful again for _Vengeance's_ intervention. Those who believed in _Vengeance_ and who had uncovered the despicable plan had obviously suffered much as they stuck to their beliefs without a moment's fluctuation.

She had some orders to issue, the moment that she reached safety.

* * *

 ** _SABRE_**

The gated entrance to Downing Street was cordoned off by four red BMW X5 police 4x4s but two of them moved smartly to allow _SABRE_ and _SCIMITAR_ to sweep through the gates with just the Protection Command Range Rover following for escort.

Crimson braked hard and she stopped _SABRE_ directly outside the famous black door to Number 10. Nemesis dived out of _SCIMITAR_ and she ran around to the rear door of the other armoured vehicle while Drift stepped out and he covered the vehicles while Nemesis opened the rear door and she helped the Prime Minister out.

The security detail from Protection Command quickly whisked the Prime Minister through the black door which had opened smartly and was closed just as smartly.

* * *

BBC NEWS

 _'History is being made here today, in Whitehall, as the Prime Minister returns to Downing Street under the protection of_ Vengeance _,  
a shadowy paramilitary organisation with links to the American vigilante organisation known as _Fusion _and headed by the notorious  
purple vigilante, Hit Girl. How the Prime Minister became involved with the organisation is unknown at this point in time. Over the past  
few hours, there have been rumours of running battles in the Home Counties involving unknown forces. As far as the BBC was concerned,  
the Prime Minister was resting at her country retreat of Chequers in the Buckinghamshire countryside. Out of the blue, she has made a  
very noticeable return to Downing Street in battle-scarred vehicles belonging to a vigilante organisation that most would never expect  
to be seen associating with the British Government and definitely not with the Prime Minister. Whether this has anything to do with the  
activity at Kensington Palace, earlier this evening, is unknown. However, black helicopters have been reported over London, including one  
bearing Vengeance markings landing on HMS Westminster, a Royal Navy warship, currently moored alongside HMS Belfast in the Pool of  
London beside Tower Bridge. All requests for information from the relevant authorities have, so far, been met with silence to this point.'_

* * *

 ** _Downing Street_**

It was something of an anti-climax as they loitered outside the British seat of government.

After twenty minutes, _SABRE_ and _SCIMITAR_ were moved further along Downing Street and turned around for a speedy exit. Crimson, Drift, Stripe, and Nemesis remained outside Downing Street, their SIG Sauer MPX PSB submachine guns held at the ready. Beside them stood two uniformed police officers, each armed with Heckler  & Koch G-36C submachine guns. If they disliked sharing the doorstep of Number 10 with the masked vigilantes, they did not show it. The injured head of the Prime Minister's security detail had been whisked off for medical attention and he was somewhere within Number 10. Then, ten minutes later, the black door opened, and the Prime Minister emerged looking much refreshed and she stepped into the street, beckoning the four vigilantes to walk with her.

"I have given orders for _HMS Westminster_ to depart London and make for open waters. She will make contact with _Caledonia_ and act as guardship. I have been informed that W _estminster's_ transit of the River Thames will take about seven to eight hours. I am truly sorry about what you have all been forced to endure these past weeks – if only I had known the truth."

"Yes, ma'am," Nemesis replied.

"Steps are being taken, I assure you," the Prime Minister went on. "This is _not_ the end, but only the beginning. The tide is turning against those responsible for this outrage and a tsunami is building. Please – you are safe from all those loyal to the government. Go and rest for the first time in weeks. Your Government thanks you for your actions. Lay low and await the Reckoning which will most surely come. I have work to do and the day has only just begun."

With that, _Vengeance_ returned to their vehicles and they left Downing Street.

* * *

It was very early morning, so the scattered members of _Vengeance_ all drove west to the Isle of Grain from where they would take a boat out to the _CALEDONIA_.

The relief that is was almost over was palpable and there was a lot of grinning. They knew that they were still in danger, but at least they were no longer alone. Everybody was very pleased to hear that _CALEDONIA_ would soon have company, sometime early that afternoon, to protect her. There was worry about their brethren who were wounded and aboard the _WESTMINSTER_ , but they would be together very soon.

While the _Predators_ viewed things differently, the adults were very grateful that things were coming to an end.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

The same relief had worked its way through the mega-yacht.

Their rescuers had vanished just as they had arrived. There was a lot of chatter between the kids as the discussed what had happened. They were all worse than exhausted and desperate for sleep. Lynn spent some time seeing to Olivia's face and the vicious bruise. The others were unharmed and glad to be safe. Though they were tired, nobody wanted to go to bed. They knew that their friends were due back on board in just a few hours and they wanted to be awake for that. It was dawn, so the daylight assisted security and _CALEDONIA_ now had no need to hide from the majority of the British Government.

In the end, the kids all laid down on sofas and fell straight to sleep, leaving Lynn and Sarah to survive on caffeine.

* * *

 ** _HMS TRIUMPH_**

It had been a rough few hours.

However, all had prevailed and the crew had performed well. The _CALEDONIA_ was safe and the SBS troopers were back aboard and enjoying a fried breakfast. The Commander took the time to nap for forty minutes before returning to his control room and moving onto the sonar room to check on what was in the surrounding area. There were the usual shipping movements where dozens of vessels criss-crossed the area as they emerged from every point of the compass. The bigger vessels were constrained to the shipping lanes by their draught and they would pass _TRIUMPH_ with miles of sea room and not affecting the submarine as it drifted along at four knots. However, something had been missed – or rather it had been marked as 'irrelevant' on the computer system.

Due to _TRIUMPH's_ focus on _CALEDONIA_ and the distinctly unfeasible chances of _TRIUMPH_ herself coming under attack, nobody was paying close attention to the merchant vessels as they ploughed through the North Sea, except to ensure that none came close to the submarine. Almost to the minute, as the clock on the bulkhead marked 06:00, the rating manning part of the Sonar 2076 system almost jumped out of his seat and hit the overhead. For a moment he just stared at the waterfall display, unable to comprehend what he was seeing before galvanising himself into action.

"T . . . Torpedo! Torpedo! Torpedo! Torpedo bearing red one-one-two! True bearing one-six-zero! Speed thirty knots!"

A few feet away, Commander Adams leapt into action.

"Helm! Steer zero-two-zero, revolutions for twenty-five knots. Cavitate! Sonar, report!"

"Hands to Action Stations!" the Executive Officer bellowed as the nuclear-reactor increased power and the 5,000-tonne hunter-killer submarine surged forwards like a thoroughbred.

"Torpedo closing – range 12,200 yards. Torpedo! Torpedo! Torpedo! Second torpedo in the water – third . . . fourth. Four torpedoes in the water. Sonar indicates Mark 46, sir!" the sonar officer reported.

"They selling the damn things at Tesco, now?" Commander Adams fumed.

"Starboard twenty – steer zero-four-four."

The usual options of diving deep and cranking on full power were not feasible in the tight confines of the North Sea. Instead, the Commander would have to dig deep and use every trick he knew. It would not do to lose one of Her Majesty's submarines. He was not being very stealthy, and he knew that on the surface, a great hump of water would be following him as he bored enormous holes in the water at a shallow depth. The torpedoes searching for him – none had acquired the submarine – were American Mark 46 anti-submarine torpedoes, most probably air-dropped from a helicopter. The eight and a half feet long weapons were loaded with 45-kilogrammes of high explosive which would ruin the day for most submarines and their crews.

Whomsoever had dropped the torpedoes had obviously had no real idea where the Trafalgar class submarine was, or _TRIUMPH_ would already have been sunk. Instead, they only had to keep clear of the circling torpedoes for six to eight minutes before they ran out of fuel and sank. The torpedoes would circle in a clockwise direction searching for a target. They were of no significant threat to the surface ships as the torpedo never went above twenty feet. Even if a torpedo did strike a larger vessel, it would be like pin prick to a giant. The minutes dragged by excruciatingly. The torpedoes had no chance of sinking the submarine. The waters around that part of the North Sea were so congested with shipping and biologics that the torpedoes would not have been able to hear a thing, let alone the powerplant of one of the quietest submarines in the world.

"Control, sonar. Lost contact on first torpedo."

"Thank you, sonar."

Two minutes later, the last of the torpedoes sank to the sea floor. Each location was marked for future recovery of the potent weapons.

"Christ!" Commander Adams breathed. "Where's the bloody _Caledonia_?"

..._...

Once _TRIUMPH_ was heading south again towards _CALEDONIA_ , a radar mast was raised along with the main search periscope and a couple of other masts.

"Control, radar – we have CALEDONIA at green zero-one-five. Speed eight knots on a course of one-three-two. Range sixteen thousand yards."

"Thank you, radar."

It would take them about forty minutes to intercept at their current speed of twelve knots. Then, just as Commander Adams could not consider things getting any worse, an alarm sounded.

"Control, radar!"

"Go ahead, radar."

"We have a large contact heading directly for Caledonia!"

"Somebody broke a damn mirror, this morning!"

"Looks like a container ship, sir," the OOW said from the periscope.

"Call, Caledonia."

Two minutes later, there was still no response from Caledonia. However, they had detected some local radar and radio jamming, centred on the container ship. Commander Adams weighed up the options, his orders, and his rules of engagement. He kept coming to the same conclusion. He studied the chart – they would never make it in time. Only one thing would.

" _Watch stand to!_ " Commander Adams ordered. "WEO, all tubes to the action state! Spearfish torpedoes."

The five torpedo tubes in the bow were loaded but not armed and ready to fire. That was quickly changed as the potent dual-purpose weapons were prepared for launch. The container ship was large and the only way to stop her almost dead in the water would be to rip out her bottom and break her back.

"Open bow caps!" the Weapons Engineering Officer ordered.

"WEO, target Sierra Eight Four – three Spearfish. Fire tubes one, three, and five."

There were three thuds, one after another, as the three weapons were shoved out of their tubes into the cold North Sea. Each seven-metre, 533-millimetre diameter weapon accelerated to seventy knots, their gas-turbine-driven pump-jets powering the 1.8-tonne weapons through the water. Each weapon towed a fibre-optic cable behind it allowing _TRIUMPH_ to control each weapon. The distance was a little over four miles and the weapons covered that at over a mile a minute. As each weapon passed directly under CALEDONIA and then dove under the giant container ship, each 300-kilogramme warhead was detonated, and the container ship was lifted out of the water by almost a tonne of aluminised PBX explosive. The vessel's keel snapped amidships under the immeasurable strain of supporting the entire vessel and the bottom itself was torn to shreds.

Each million-pound torpedo performed flawlessly.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

"Holy shit!"

Olivia was just sitting up on the sofa when she heard a weird sound coming from beneath _CALEDONIA_. The sound faded but then she caught sight of an enormous container ship, off to starboard and then the whole world appeared to explode. The container ship leapt out of the water and then crashed back down again before snapping in half. The two halves tore apart, rolling over and tipping hundreds of containers into the North Sea. One deck above, Sarah was stunned – she had been studying a chart, relying on the automated radar systems to warn her of any potential collisions. She had sensed something and then turned to find thousands of tonnes of container ship bearing down on _CALEDONIA_.

She had no time to reach for the throttles, nor the wheel before the world was torn apart.


	42. Waiting

**_Friday, October 21st, 2016_**

 ** _Isle of Grain_**

 ** _Thirty-one miles east of London_**

Kaitlin had been bitching for over an hour.

She was unhappy with her current lot in life. She had not been part of the action – not her fault; she had been injured. She was also not happy with having lost her best friend – that still grated. Finally, Adrien had stopped the vehicle and Kaitlin had been able to get out to stretch her legs. The youngster grinned as she found Naomi waiting for her with Debbie and Jack. The two girls looked out to sea and there, a few miles distant, they could make out the glossy blue hull as it moved slowly across the choppy waters. It was Naomi, whose keen eyes spotted the inbound problem. Her brain was computing speeds and distances and each time, she came up with the same answer as she watched an enormous container ship, many times larger than _CALEDONIA_ , edging closer and closer to their temporary home and their friends. Naomi considered reaching for a radio to call _CALEDONIA_ as she had not seen anything to show that the incoming container ship had been seen.

She had no time to reach for the radio, nor anything else before the world was torn apart.

..._...

As the two girls watched, aghast, the container ship suddenly appeared to bulge in about four different places before the entire vessel, complete with its cargo of containers appeared to lift out of the ocean.

Naomi's ears had been able to detect four subtle, but enormous, underwater explosions which sent the sea exploding into the air as the huge vessel disintegrated before their very eyes. Containers flew into the air and others toppled over like a stack of building blocks. To the left of the developing disaster, _CALEDONIA_ was tossed violently in the ensuing maelstrom of white water.

Kaitlin looked on in horror as she saw the yacht knocked almost onto its beam ends.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

The explosions were totally unexpected and very violent.

Sarah was knocked off her feet and she felt the deck heaving as the yacht shook and vibrated before pitching over violently to port and then hanging for what seemed to be an age before _CALEDONIA_ righted herself. Out of the bridge windows, Sarah could see torrents of spray falling to the boiling, churning sea. The sound of the explosions followed by the tearing of steel and crashing of containers momentarily deafened Sarah but as the sounds receded, alarm bells and buzzers replaced the sounds of destruction. Sarah dived for the console and she scanned the screens as alerts flashed. Sarah was very familiar with the effects of explosive shock on a warship, and the alerts flashing up depicting flooding in the engine room were expected. While she was checking that the automated pumping systems had cut in, Olivia burst onto the bridge.

"Are you okay, Sarah!" Olivia called out.

"Yes – how's it below?"

"A lot of broken crockery and glasses, but we're okay," Olivia replied. "What happened?"

"Torpedoes – looks like that ship tried to ram us and our saviour blew it out of the water with three or four Spearfish torpedoes."

"That was close."

"Tell me about it!" Sarah replied.

 _"Victor Charlie, this is Prowl. Over."_

Olivia picked up the microphone to respond.

"Prowl, this is Victor Charlie. Go ahead. Over."

 _"You been blowing up container ships again, Ajax?"_

Olivia stepped out onto the bridge wing closest to the land and she raised her right hand into the air.

"You looking at us, Prowl? Over."

 _"Yes. Over?"_

"Can you see my middle finger? Over."

* * *

 ** _Two days later_**

 ** _Sunday, October 23rd, 2016_**

 ** _Cowes, Isle of Wight_**

The delay was killing everybody.

They had been at anchor for thirty-six hours and they just wanted to move on. However, they _were_ all together again. After a 170-nautical mile run at fourteen knots, they had dropped anchor off the small town. Their run had been in tandem with _HMS WESTMINSTER_ who had remained within five nautical miles at all times. Her Merlin helicopter would clatter past more than once on the trip. Electra and Mary had come aboard after anchoring at Cowes, along with Ginny. The Prince had gone ashore with his PPO to assist the government. Moral had leapt, and everybody had taken the time to sleep, wash, joke, and laugh. Even Keira joined in – killing some of the enemy was helping keep her emotions at bay. Electra was mobbed as she told her story and then Mary had explained her own.

They had both awoken to find themselves aboard _WESTMINSTER_. For Electra, it was not her first time aboard a Royal Navy vessel, but the second time she had not come aboard under her own steam. For Mary, it was about her eighth visit to a Royal Navy ship. Mary praised the hell out of Electra while the younger girl saw nothing in what she had done. The free time had gone down well with the youngsters as well as with the adults. They all needed time to rest and that was what they were getting as they awaited something, anything, from the Prime Minister.

Some, however, found alternative ways to 'rest'.

..._...

Olivia was feeling decidedly apprehensive as she lay in the cabin with Craig.

"You were very brave, Liv" Craig said.

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were. You had the presence of mind to go for your pistol and you took a man down even while he was attacking you."

"I suppose."

"I mean it – you did really well. Considering that only a few weeks back you had never touched a gun and you had no idea about _Predators_ and _Vengeance_. You were amazing."

Olivia blushed wildly.

"Stop it – you're making me blush."

"I know – even the tops of your boobs are red."

Olivia giggled.

"You're really beautiful. . ."

"Not with this massive bruise, I'm not."

"Yes, you are – your body is beautiful and the bruise means nothing to me. But I stand by my comment – you did really well for a pig-headed girl."

"You speak to all your girlfriends like that?"

"Yes – well, you're my first."

It was Craig's turn to blush. The two of them had retreated to his cabin soon after breakfast and then locked the door behind them. Both had taken to the same bunk and then, somehow, all their clothing had ended up on the floor –things just happen, as Kaitlin would say.

"You've looked after me, Craig. Even when I did stupid things, like bringing a mobile phone aboard. I know you were really mad with me, but I learnt something during my time as a prisoner. I learnt that you cannot be lax when you are part of a team where just one slip could get everybody killed. The past few weeks have been a real hell – not to mention that I have killed three men. However, each of those men deserved to die. It was them or me. It was them or my friends. All the suffering while you trained me . . . without out it, I'd be dead right now – maybe at your hands. When this is all over, I need to decide about staying with _Vengeance_. What do you think I should do, Craig?"

"You need to do what _you_ think is right. Only you can make that decision."

"What about you – will you still want to be with me if I leave _Vengeance_?"

"Liv, I will always love you – no matter what. You are now aware of _Vengeance_ and that cannot change. I see no reason why you can't still exercise with us – and I hope you do. But the choice is yours – Hit Girl gave us _Predators_ the opportunity to dictate our own lives. We choose when we kill, how we kill, why we kill. You also have that choice, Olivia. Nobody will force you to be Ajax, okay?"

"Thank you," Olivia replied as she gave Craig a kiss on the cheek. "You really love me?"

"Why else would I be lying here, butt naked?"

..._...

For young Kaitlin, the downtime allowed her to exercise her shoulder which had been wrenched just a week or so previously.

Typically, for Kaitlin, she had picked somebody much older than herself and somebody considerably taller. Natalie Parent was a _Predator_ , just like Kaitlin and the others. The girl was fourteen-years-old and known as Siren. She was a Phase 3 _Predator_ and her skills showed it. She did not give Kaitlin any quarter and they both sparred until Kaitlin waved Natalie off.

"You're really good, Kaitlin."

"I am, aren't I?"

"Ignore her ego, Natalie – it's as big as a house!" Naomi quipped.

"That makes Natalie and Kaitlin well suited, then," Jason chuckled.

Natalie scowled at Jason while Kaitlin did the same with Naomi.

"Okay, girls – go get a drink," Cassie directed. "Well done, both of you."

Next, came Timothy 'Tim' McNab, the obnoxious thirteen-year-old step-brother of Natalie, known as Snake Eyes. The boy stared down at nine-year-old Naomi and ten-year-old Yvette. They were being watched intently by Electra and Mary who sat on a soft together. Electra was still more than a little sore, so she had her feet up and she was laid back on a pillow with Mary to keep her company. The bond between the two girls had grown to an unprecedented level. Electra had saved Mary's life twice – even using her own body the second time. To Mary, it was like have a younger sister and she worried about them having to go their separate ways when it was time to go back to school.

"Ooh!" Electra exclaimed as Tim was slammed to the mat by Yvette and Naomi punched the boy hard in the chest.

The boy sprang up and he gave Naomi a sharp kick which had the girl wincing, but she worked with Yvette to put the boy down twice more before the sparring was halted by Jason before anybody was hurt. Andrew laughed as watched the goings on. He was finally getting a good look at _Vengeance_ and what his fiancé did at night. Cassie had been worried that Andrew might not want to marry her any longer once he found out the truth about her and her miscreant adoptive children. Instead, Andrew had found that he loved her more and he had proved that with 'a few hours of disgusting banging and screaming' as Kaitlin had put it. Indeed, Kaitlin loved spending time with Andrew and after she had grabbed a bottle of cold water, the eight-year-old had wormed herself in between Cassie and Andrew, eventually forcing Cassie off the Sofa. Naomi, too, liked to spend time with Andrew and she plonked herself down on the other side of Andrew once she too had grabbed some water.

"You two happy?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah," Kaitlin replied with a cheeky grin.

"We have you and Mum – that's enough," Naomi added as she leaned into Andrew.

Yvette was just as happy to be with her adoptive parents – even though it was not quite so formal. She loved Adrien and Marinette and they both cared for her enormously. Alya was still on the fence about the 'lodger' but she was warming to the fiery youngster.

"Anyone seen Craig and Olivia?" Lynn asked.

Jessica groaned.

"They're in the bow – I don't even want to _think_ about what they might be getting up to."

"True," Lynn replied."

..._...

For the thirteen-year-old Olivia Kensington, current events had been varied, but exciting.

Her feelings had been knocked many times over the past four and a half weeks since she had discovered that child assassins known as _Predators_ existed and that she was about to go on the run with the shadowy organisation known as _Vengeance_. Then, she had managed to fall for a boy. He was eight months younger than her and she was taller, but he was also different to any of the boys she normally saw at school – he was special, and he preferred to talk, rather than tease. He was the first boy she had seen naked and she had just touched her first penis. She could not honestly believe that she was lying in bed with a boy while they were both naked. She lay on her side, next to Craig. For some reason, the boy was fascinated by her pubic hair and he was casually running his fingers through it which Olivia found that she enjoyed, despite her misgivings at having a boy touching her 'down there'. As for Craig, she decided that he was a man in her eyes. While she was sure that most boys had a bigger dick and more hair, it was okay, and the boy was only just thirteen. She also found that as she prodded and stroked Craig, his already hard dick began to twitch, and then Craig's breathing began to hitch before she jumped as something hot exploded over her tummy.

Olivia giggled as she realised what had just happened. Craig looked worried for a moment, but Olivia just leaned over, and she kissed him full on the lips, ignoring the squelchy feeling as her tummy rubbed against his. His lips made her own tingle in a way which she had never felt before. To the boy, Olivia's natural warmth caused his skin to tingle and he could not believe that he had such a beautiful girl lying on him – naked. Craig was no stranger to the female body – he had seen plenty as a _Predator_ , but he had never actually touched one before. Olivia's skin was silky soft, and it was tantalising. Everything about Olivia was beautiful and he loved her long brown hair. As they paused to take a breath, Olivia rolled onto her back while staying close to Craig. His eyes ran down her body and then stopped.

Instead of his eyes, he tried a more tactile method as he ran his fingers over the top of Olivia's pubic hair. Then he found something at the top of her slit which felt interesting to the boy. Olivia twitched a few times as he poked at a certain point very near the top of her pubic hair. She seemed to be enjoying what he was doing, so he continued.

"What is this bit?" Craig asked finally.

"That is my clit."

"Oh!"

Craig knew what that bit was, and he took his hands away but then he saw Olivia's glare of annoyance and he returned to gently massaging said part.

..._...

Lynn almost jumped as there was an enormous scream from forward and she grabbed her pistol before wisely putting it back in place.

"Oh, for the love of God!" she muttered, wondering if she should be buying condoms.

Jasper just chuckled as did David while Cassie decided to head forward to check on things. Cassie knocked on the cabin door.

"Olivia, it's Cassie; are you okay?"

There was a giggle then an exclamation.

"Fuck, yeah!"

Followed by more giggling.

"I think I found Liv's sweet spot," Craig called out causing the giggling to get louder.

"Oh, brother!" a mortified Jessica grimaced as she bolted out of the bow with Jeremy close behind.

..._...

Later that morning, everybody settled down to lunch which was a crowded affair considering the numbers aboard, so it was more of a buffet.

Two teenagers tried to slink onto the deck and then slide into chairs without anybody noticing.

"The dirty cunts are here!" Kaitlin announced loudly.

"Kaitlin!" Cassie remonstrated.

"Tell me one word which was not accurate in my statement," Kaitlin demanded.

Cassie laughed.

"It was accurate, but you could have used some cleaner words," Cassie replied.

Kaitlin was not convinced but then she saw food and she veered off in that direction. David and Jasper looked down at Olivia who scowled.

"We're still virgins," she pointed out.

"Never said anything," Jasper commented.

"Lynn?" Olivia asked with an embarrassed grin.

"Yes, honey."

"How do you get semen out of your pubes?"

Mary, Yvette, and Electra all burst out laughing. Lynn looked a little pink in the cheeks as she faced Olivia.

"Why might I know?"

"Oh, please," Olivia retorted. "You and Jasper are at it whenever you get a chance."

There was giggling from most of the girls present as Lynn found that she had to head for the galley. Olivia looked at Natasha.

"Don't ask her – she shaves her pubes," Cameron commented.

There were hoots of laughter as Natasha's face went bright red. Sarah and Cassie laughed out loud along with Alya and Marinette. Even Ginny was grinning.

"Asshole!" Natasha responded.

"Better to clean it before it dries," Cassie offered knowingly as Andrew blushed. "Or you could always shave it like Nats. . ."

Olivia shook her head pointedly.

"Hey!" Kaitlin called out. "Normal people are trying to eat, here!"

"Normal!" Mary exclaimed. "Name one."

* * *

On her return to CALEDONIA, Electra had had to suffer the indignity of everybody checking out her newest scars in the shower.

For the ten-year-old, the scars were getting old – she ignored them, and the girl concentrated on the positives. She was alive and so was her best friend. To Electra, Mary was a wildcard and she needed protecting. The Princess had taken a life – her second apparently. The thanks that Electra had received from the Prince had been more than the girl could take and she had felt really embarrassed at all the praise. Indeed, when Electra had awoken that first day aboard WESTMINSTER, she was surprised to receive a visit from an officer who came to attention beside her bed.

"Ma'am," he said, and the lieutenant handed the youngster a sealed envelope before smartly turning and walking out of the sickbay.

Electra studied the envelope. It was buff-coloured and on the front was a neatly typed address:

 _MISS ELECTRA HAIG  
HMS WESTMINSTER_

 _UK OFFICIAL-SENSITIVE [PERSONAL] – EYES ONLY_

Electra had never seen a security classification before, so with curiosity etched on her features, Electra unsealed the envelope and she withdrew a single piece of white A4 paper with a few neatly typed lines:

 _ELECTRA_

 _I WISH TO TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO THANK YOU FOR THE LIFE OF MY GRANDDAUGHTER.  
MARY HAS ONLY GOOD THINGS TO SAY ABOUT YOU AND I LOOK FORWARD TO OUR MEETING._

 _GET WELL SOON._

 _ELIZABETH R._

Electra was stunned – more than stunned. Her hands shook as she considered from where the message had originated. That envelope, complete with the sheet of paper, was securely stowed as safely as possible. Electra had shown it to no one . . . not even to Mary.

It was immediately the most important item she owned.

..._...

Sarah, Trevor, and David had spent some of the past two days repairing damage which had been incurred when the four torpedoes had exploded barely a mile away from the _CALEDONIA_. The vessel had been shaken severely and shockwaves had damaged some of the pipework and fittings in the engine room – not to mention smashing a good deal of crockery and glassware. The damage was not major – just time-consuming to repair. Otherwise, _CALEDONIA_ was in perfect condition with a long life ahead of her on the world's oceans.

There was one person who was not joining in very much. Keira was suffering. Nobody mentioned the elephant in the room whenever Keira was around. It was painful for all, but especially for Keira. It had only been a week but Keira was doing her utmost to focus on the tasks ahead. She knew that her skills as a pilot would be needed in the coming days and that had to take precedence over Harper's death. However, Keira was looking forward to dishing out her own form of justice against those who had deprived her of her little sister. Keira was still in two minds as to where her future lay. As she walked around the upper decks of _CALEDONIA_ , she looked out across the water to where _HMS WESTMINSTER_ lay at anchor, half a mile distant. Squatting on the flight deck at the stern, the fourteen-tonne Merlin HM.2 helicopter brought back fond memories of her past as a Royal Navy pilot. She enjoyed the camaraderie of shipboard life and she loved the sea. But she had new friends, friends that needed her.

"I know what you're thinking," Sarah said as she joined her friend in the bow and she too stared across at the sleek grey warship. "Should you go back to being Lieutenant Keira Sharp Royal Navy? A difficult question – I know you loved your time at sea and in the air. I also know that you only left because of Harper. Whatever you decide; we will all be with you."

Keira turned to her friend, tears spilling down her face.

"I miss her so much. . ."

Keira began to sob as she hugged her friend. Sarah had been waiting for it. Keira had not really come to terms with losing her sister and Sarah knew that she had to, if she was to get past it. Keira sobbed on Sarah's shoulder for several minutes before Naomi and Kaitlin appeared on the bow.

"Can we sit with you, Keira?" Naomi asked.

Keira smiled down at the two girls – they were both Harper's best friends and they had both made Harper very welcome, even considering their past – and she nodded. Sarah stepped back as the two youngsters sat either side of Keira and then the tears really began to flow as they hugged each other. The two girls also needed to grieve and they both let their sorrow out as they shared that sorrow with the sister of their best friend.

Sarah remained close by should she be needed and to ensure that nobody interfered with the grieving process underway.

* * *

 ** _The following morning_**

 ** _Monday, October 24th_**

Keira was actually smiling as she entered the galley.

"Morning, Keira," David said.

"Morning, Chief."

"You seem chipper, this morning," Lynn commented.

"I slept better – any tea?"

"Here," Lynn said, pushing a steaming mug of tea towards Keira.

"Perfect. Where're all the little dears?"

"Still in their pits," David replied. "Olivia and Craig must be very tired."

Keira laughed.

"We heard anything from HMG?" she asked.

"Nothing substantial. They've sent over some intel and we think we know where Radford is hiding," Jasper replied. "As you know, the man is an arms dealer of sorts. He acts as a middleman for British weapons' producers. He has a large facility in Wales. We think he's there – if he is, then we have our work cut out."

"At least we have tabs on him," Lynn commented.

"How come he hasn't bugged out of the country?" Keira asked.

"We don't know," Jasper replied. "My two pence says he sees himself as untouchable. There is no direct evidence against the man and what evidence we do have would be tied up in a court of law for decades. The man is a billionaire with more lawyers than Hit Girl has guns."

Jasper was then interrupted by the next person into the galley.

"Morning, world!"

"Hello, Kaitlin."

"Hi, Keira."

"Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Me, too, I think," Naomi offered as she appeared. "Craig up yet?"

"Nah," Kaitlin replied. "He'll be shagging Olivia – they've probably moved on to doggy style by now."

Lynn looked at Keira, who smirked.

"Where the hell does an eight-year-old girl get these graphic sexual terms from, anyway?" Keira demanded.

"Craig has a stash of dirty magazines under the false bottom in his holdall," Kaitlin replied as she poured herself a large glass of milk. "They all seem to be faulty publications as some of the pages are stuck together."

Keira laughed out loud as David cringed.

"Boys will be boys," Lynn chuckled.

..._...

"Kaitlin!"

Cassie's exclamation caught Kaitlin about to slap Craig for a second time.

"He said something nasty," the youngster complained, scowling up at Craig who had a mark suspiciously like an eight-year-old girl's handprint on his left cheek.

Craig was smirking and Olivia, who was beside him, was giggling her head off.

"Their faces match," Naomi pointed out with a grin.

"Why did you slap Craig, Kaitlin?" Cassie asked the frowning Kaitlin sternly.

"He told me why the pages in his magazine were stuck together . . . he's a disgusting twat!"

Olivia was losing control of her giggling and the girl was close to losing control of her bladder while Craig was trying to keep a straight face but failing. Naomi was laughing at her cousin and she shook her head – Kaitlin could be so innocent at times and Naomi loved her for it – mind you, even the nine-year-old found it vert disgusting.

"Get used to it, honey," Cassie suggested. "And, Kaitlin, please do not slap Craig again."

"No promises," Kaitlin grinned.


	43. Operation Counterstrike - Reckoning

_Half a league, half a league,  
Half a league onward,  
All in the valley of Death  
Rode the six hundred.  
"Forward, the Light Brigade!  
Charge for the guns!" he said:  
Into the valley of Death  
Rode the six hundred._

* * *

 **reckoning**

/rɛk(ə)nɪŋ/

 _noun_

The avenging or punishing of past mistakes or misdeeds.

* * *

 ** _Wednesday, October 26th, 2016_**

 ** _Cowes, Isle of Wight_**

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

The place was pleasant.

It was a sheltered anchorage, too. But everybody was rested, and they just wanted out of there – and soon. At about 7 A.M., a fast boat roared toward CALEDONIA from the direction of Portsmouth. Sarah had received prior notification of the approaching Pacific RIB from the WESTMINISTER and she was there to meet the craft at the stern. A sailor handed over a weighted canvas bag which Sarah had to sign for before the RIB accelerated away in the direction of Portsmouth. Sarah recognised the bag – they were used to carry sensitive documents at sea. If required, the bag could be dumped over the side and it would flood, dragging the secrets below the murky waters forever. Sarah took the bag inside and she placed it down on the table in the office. She broke the seal and inside, she found several paper-filled files, some folded maps and charts, and two computer storage devices.

Sarah read the top sheet:

 ** _OPERATION  
COUNTERSTRIKE_**

 ** _TOP SECRET - UK EYES ONLY_**

* * *

 ** _That morning_**

After breakfast, the briefing began.

It was over – the wait was over, and everybody was relieved to be getting on with the final part of the whole sordid affair. They had a location. They had a target. They had a mission. They were also very eager. Twenty-eight eager people were crammed into the main deck. Anti-eavesdropping measures had been employed and every hatch and window aboard was sealed. Jasper and Lynn had setup a pair of large whiteboards to port as aids for the briefing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, _Predators_ and Princess," Jasper announced. "I am very pleased to announce Operation Counterstrike. This operation is intended to take down the Radford Group and Radford himself. This _not_ a Vengeance operation, however, it has received the highest authorisation for COBRA."

"Cobra?" Olivia asked innocently.

"It stands for Cabinet Office Briefing Room A – it's the room where emergency situations are discussed in Downing Street," Lynn explained.

"Oh," Olivia replied, suitably enlightened.

"Radford's base of operations is, as we have mentioned before, in Wales. He bought up a disused RAF base about twenty years ago and he built up his company. He repaired aircraft for the airlines, then he went on to support the military. He picked up some lucrative contracts during the run up to the first Gulf War. He made even more money bringing back and repairing damaged helicopters and fighting vehicles. By the time the second Gulf War erupted, Radford was on the MoD's list of preferred suppliers. He made millions and then he made even more once he wormed his way into Afghanistan and supported the British military there. The man has his own mercenary force – men who guard his facilities abroad – who we believe to be in the UK in force. He is expected to have upwards of a one thousand people working at his HQ. Of that number, maybe four hundred are believed to be ex-military and therefore capable of bearing arms."

"Will they fight against us and the British military?" Craig asked.

"The mercs vary in nationality and not all are Brits. We're hoping that the Brits may turn on Radford – but we cannot rely on that. However, the PM has directed that all are fair game. She would rather they meet unfortunate deaths than end up costing the country money while they spend the rest of their rotten lives in prison. A lot of resources are going into this – we have the Royal Navy, Royal Marines, the Army, and the RAF involved. They are looking at _Vengeance_ to serve on point. We will go in along with elements of 42 Commando Reconnaissance Troop. Our job will be to keep sight of Radford and take him out if we can. We need to identify anything which might inhibit the main assault and ensure that the bastards do not escape. The RAF have been authorised to shootdown any aircraft which launch from that facility, as have the RN."

Jasper paused to put maps and diagrams up on the whiteboard with magnets to hold the documents in place.

"I know that tensions run high in you all and we have all suffered a loss. This will be our opportunity to get even. However, do not lose sight of the endgame and why we are going on this operation. We are there to assist in taking down a clear and present threat to the United Kingdom. I trust you all to do your duty and not to waver should temptation strike. You are all professionals – some more than others – but you all know the score and you will be fighting alongside the best the United Kingdom has to offer. I want you all to go through these maps and diagrams until you have them memorised. You must know every bump in the landscape and every part of that facility. Later on, I will have your teams. We depart for Wales at fourteen hundred. That is all."

There was feverish activity as everybody grabbed briefing packs and scoured the documents inside.

..._...

After a short while, they went through the people who they might be facing.

Photos were stuck up on the board. Sebastian Radford headed the list. Also added were the known members of his staff. Keira stood up and she stuck another photo up on the board. Her face bore a very dangerous expression.

"This bitch is Scarlett Radford and she is thirteen-years-old. She is the reason why Harper is dead. She took my sister away from me. . ."

"I recognise her; she was the one who threw Harper into the mud, naked," Kaitlin interrupted. "That bitch is mine!"

"Ours!" Naomi growled dangerously.

"Let's not get distracted," Jasper warned. "Yes, Scarlett Radford is fair game and I can see why you all want to kill her, but Sebastian Radford is the number one target. Scarlett is a ways down the list, however . . . however, I understand why she needs to die and I will say it again: do not lose focus of the operation as a whole."

Kaitlin and Naomi nodded, their faces furious and dangerous.

* * *

 ** _Thursday, October 27th_**

 ** _Castlemartin, Pembrokeshire  
Wales, United Kingdom_**

It was late afternoon by the time they turned into the entrance to the Castlemartin Training Area.

They were directed to drive straight into the open door of an aircraft hangar. The moment they were inside, the door was closed behind them. They were a mere twenty miles from their target. As they exited the vehicles, they were met by a large man in combat fatigues. His T-shirt proclaimed him to be Royal Marines Commando.

"Sergeant Billy Martin. Welcome to Operation Counterstrike."

The man was cheery and welcoming as _Vengeance_ gathered around. Behind him, there were eleven similarly clad men – all smiling.

"This gentleman," Sergeant Martin proclaimed, pointing at a man in a dark business suit who looked like anything but a soldier, "is from the Ministry of Defence and he is your liaison. Please meet Phillip Ransom."

"Hello," the man offered somewhat timidly. "I work for the MoD in Whitehall and I will be the liaison between _Vengeance_ and the MoD. Some in power have raised concerns about those beneath the age of combat consent. That is, those under eighteen years of age should not deploy into what is expected to become a combat zone."

"What!?" Kaitlin exclaimed and the faces of the other _Predators_ reflected her outrage.

Naomi stepped forwards, pushing her rambunctious cousin towards Cassie who grabbed Kaitlin.

"So," Naomi began as she moved towards the man from the MoD. "I am deemed too young for a combat zone. Nobody deemed me too young when I was taken at seven-years-old and trained to become an assassin. I murdered my own parents. I was deemed old enough to wield a gun. I was deemed old enough to wield a knife. I was deemed old enough to be taught to kill with my bare hands. I have killed – many times. I have the blood of men on my hands. Where were you then, Mr Ransom? Where were you to prevent my government deeming me of age to be trained to become a fucking assassin?"

Naomi seized the unfortunate man and she slammed him against an Army Coyote armoured vehicle. She wrenched his right arm up behind his back.

"Now, Phil, what are you going to do about it?" Naomi growled dangerously.

The man was fighting obvious pain as his arm was bent backwards.

"Are you going to allow me and my friends to fight for our fallen comrade, or are you going to go back to London with a badly broken arm and your tail between your legs?"

"It was merely a concern, young lady – I have the greatest respect for _Vengeance_ and you _Predators_ and I apologise but I had to pass on the message."

"Any more of you wankers got any ageist or maybe some sexist bullshit?" Naomi went on as she glared at the assembled Royal Marines Commandoes. "I'll take every damn one of you down!"

"Enough!"

The nine-year-old girl with blazing anger in her eyes turned to find herself receiving a much more powerful glare from a Royal Marines officer who had come into view. Naomi released the man as directed and she stepped back, allowing him to regain his composure as he cradled his right arm. Sergeant Martin laughed out loud and there were chuckles from the other Royal Marines present.

"I am Captain McFadden. I am in charge of tonight's escapades."

"You're a girl!" Olivia blurted out as she took in the green beret with the globe and laurel badge over her left eye and the three pips of her rank.

"Very observant . . . Olivia, is it?"

Olivia nodded.

"Yes, I am a girl, does that surprise you?"

"I didn't know there were any female Royal Marines," Olivia replied.

"Oh, yes; there are not all that many of us, but we can all keep up with these Neanderthals," Captain McFadden explained as she waved a hand in the direction of the grinning male bootnecks. "However, don't let me intercede, Sergeant."

"Thank you, ma'am. Welcome aboard, _Vengeance_ ," Sergeant Martin said before his tone darkened and his face showed genuine sorrow. "We have all heard what a _Predator_ is, and we are horrified to believe that something so inhuman even exists. However, before us, we see the proof. You have our respect, and we would be honoured to have you fighting alongside us."

"Hope you've got strong stomachs, boys because there's going to be a lot of blood!" Kaitlin chipped in.

"I like this girl!" one of the marines exclaimed with a chuckle.

"Right – I would suggest you all go and get changed," Sergeant Martin directed, bringing things back on track. "Scran will be in forty minutes and the final briefing at eight before we deploy at midnight."

 _Vengeance_ was pointed towards a double-stack of portacabins over to one side of the hanger.

..._...

Forty minutes later, a very different crowd of people re-joined the marines in the line for food.

Each wore MTP (Multi-Terrain Pattern) trousers with green stable belt, a T-shirt with thermal smock over, and a lightweight jacket. On their feet, they wore dark-coloured lightweight boots. Those with long hair had their hair tied up in braids, a bun, or a ponytail. The fifteen members of _Vengeance_ appeared extremely professional, even the younger members. They were all very hungry as they intermingled with the elite troops. Royal Navy cooks and stewards manned the makeshift galley and by the smell, something damn nice was cooking.

"Okay," one of the cooks announced. "We have some freshly made steak and kidney pie with endless chips – plenty of ketchup, too. And for those who finish their scran, we have some nutty."

Everybody grabbed a tray and they each received a plate of steaming steak and kidney pie with a scoop of thickly cut chips. Craig and Olivia were both grinning as they took in the food before them. They both stopped at the drinks offerings. There was a pair of coolers – one was a violent green, the other orange.

"What _is_ that green stuff?" Olivia demanded.

"Limers, love," a marine offered. "Lime juice – tastes great, but stains anything it touches."

Olivia and Craig both helped themselves to a large plastic mug and filled them with 'limers'. _Vengeance_ intermingled with the bootnecks while they ate, and they got to know one another. Naturally, the girls appeared to gravitate to the female officer who they saw as an example of ultimate girl-power. Electra, Naomi, and Kaitlin had most of the marines laughing – pissing themselves actually – with some jokes and generally being idiots. The marines returned the favour with their own jokes which began politely but then they just turned downright crude and eventually even Craig was wide-eyed and blushing. The steak and kidney pie was the best that any of them had ever eaten. Olivia liked the lime juice, as did Craig. Towards the end of the meal, as they cleared their plates, the talk turned more serious and steered towards the looming operation. Once they were finished, everybody helped themselves to some 'nutty' – several boxes of confectionery were arranged on a table: Mars, Twix, Fruit and Nut, Snickers, and Aero.

Very quickly, the contents – over two hundred bars – vanished, leaving just empty cardboard behind.

..._...

An array of comfortable seats was arranged in a semi-circle and twenty-five of the twenty-eight people present took their seats.

Captain McFadden, Sergeant Martin, and Mr Ransom stood upfront. Mr Ransom did not appear very happy with his location standing before _Vengeance_ and the marines – he looked like a man about to be fed to the lions.

"Okay," Captain McFadden explained as she pointed to some enlarged, high-definition colour photos of the area to the west of Milford Haven. "Over the past few days, there have been plenty of helicopter flights around the area. As a result, our infiltration should go unnoticed. The police will be controlling all access to the peninsula in a discrete fashion – a messy car crash, I believe, on the two main roads in and out. Okay, we have a troop of twenty-eight and I am in overall command. My second-in-command is Sergeant Martin, here. We will break down into six sections: five per section for _Vengeance_ and four per section for us Royals. _Vengeance_ has callsigns with the prefix ' _Cavalier One_ '. The Royals will be using callsigns with the prefix ' _Cavalier Two_ '. Helicopter support will use the callsigns ' _Cavalier Three_ ' and that includes your TWILIGHT: _Cavalier Three-One_ and SCOURGE: _Cavalier Three-Two_. We have air support from _Devil Flight_ which I believe to be RAF Typhoon FGR4 jets – they will take out anything which gets in the way and they will be with us from around oh-four-hundred. They will be armed for air-to-air and air-to-ground. The RAF will also have a pair of Reaper MQ9A drones airborne, callsign: _Rapier_ from midnight armed with laser-guided bombs and AGM-114 Hellfire missiles."

"Woah!" Craig breathed.

"No punches are being pulled here, Craig," the captain continued. "We need support, we're going to get it – no half measures. We are up against some serious people and we only want the bad guys getting killed. _Cavalier One-One_ and _One-Two_ will be dropped off at Point Alpha, out to the west . . . here. _Cavalier One-Three_ and _Two-Three_ will be dropped off here, at Point Bravo . . . to the south. Finally, _Cavalier Two-One_ and _Two-Two_ will be dumped at Point Charlie, to the north. There are three primary targets: the maintenance hangers to the north of the airfield, the Radford Group HQ over here . . . to the northwest of the airfield. The final primary target is down here, Target One, the Radford home. I know that you want to target that first with everybody, but we have an operation to follow through, okay?"

There were reluctant nods from the _Predators_.

"There are three secondary targets which will be attacked by the main force an hour before dawn with assistance from us once the primary targets are destroyed. We have the aircraft and weapons storage facility to the east of the airfield, the executive jet terminal, and the main airfield where we have scattered aircraft and defensive features. We are just twenty-seven, but there will be over a hundred men of 42 Commando coming ashore from the main assault plus armoured fighting vehicles and naval gunfire support. Now, when you arrive, there will be a pre-positioned vehicle awaiting each section – five Jackal 2s and a Cougar. They will be fully fuelled and ready. Each is fitted with a GMPG in the bow and an L111A1 M2 Browning in the turret ring. Right, people – go get yourselves a look at a Jackal 2 and a Coyote, then get yourselves rested for an hour before we deploy at midnight."

After a brief tour of a Jackal 2 and the all but identical Coyote, _Vengeance_ headed off to rest and gear up.

* * *

 ** _Friday, October 28th_**

 ** _Midnight_**

 _Vengeance_ and the Royals left the hanger and moved a short distance away to a concrete hard-standing.

Masks had been pulled on by the _Vengeance_ members with approving looks from the Royals. Every person carried and automatic assault rifle, a pistol, ammunition, and various blades and other sharp objects. Ahead of them, they found their transport waiting. The three Royal Navy Merlin HC4 helicopters of the Commando Helicopter Force and 845 Naval Air Squadron were ready for take-off, nine turbine engines screaming and three sets of main rotor blades spinning at high speed. Each giant helicopter had the rear ramp lowered. On each ramp stood the loadmaster, a Royal Navy Petty Officer. Mounted centrally at the base of the ramp, a 7.62-millimetre General Purpose Machine Gun (GPMG) pointed out behind the helicopter. The teams climbed aboard their designated transport and were pointed to canvas seats mounted on either side of the fuselage. Forward, M134 miniguns could be seen poking out the port and starboard side of the helicopters. Two pilots were seated in the hi-tech cockpit fitted with large colour displays. Each pilot wore night-vision equipment on their helmets and all three helicopters were dark, with no external lighting and internally, only red lighting was in use.

In the left-hand Merlin, callsign: _Bayonet_ , the Point Alpha teams, _Cavalier One-One_ , consisting of Crimson, Nemesis, Glide, Prowl, and Ajax strapped in alongside _Cavalier One-Two_ consisting of Drift, Stripe, Harrier, La Coccinelle, and La Terreaur. Along with the two pilots, the loadmaster, and three crewmen, the helicopter was very lightly loaded with only sixteen people aboard. The _Vengeance_ members were all nervous, even the older members. Next door, in the centre Merlin, callsign: _Twister_ , the Point Bravo teams, _Cavalier One-Three_ , consisting of Sleuth, Jack Foster, Debbie Grey, Q, and Rigour strapped in alongside _Cavalier Two-Three_ consisting of Sergeant Martin, Lance Corporal Nicol, Marine Scott, and Marine Howe. The right-hand Merlin, callsign: _Vortex_ , carried the Point Charlie teams, _Cavalier Two-One_ , consisting of Captain McFadden, Corporal Morgan, Marine Lawson, and Marine Thornton along with Cavalier _Two-Two_ , consisting of Corporal Franklin, Marine Freeman, Marine Angus, and Marine Coleman.

As soon as the three helicopters were loaded, the rear ramps rose just a foot before the helicopters lifted off the ground and each machine headed west at seventy feet altitude and over one-hundred knots indicated airspeed.

* * *

 ** _Point Alpha_**

 ** _Cavalier One-One: Crimson, Nemesis, Glide, Prowl, Ajax  
Cavalier One-Two: Drift, Stripe, Harrier, La Coccinelle, La Terreaur_**

The Merlin HC4, callsign: _Bayonet_ , came in low over the sea across Jack Sound before pulling up sharply to clear the cliffs at The Anvil.

The 14-tonne flying machine touched down four-hundred yards to the west of their initial objective. The flat terrain suitable for the helicopter and far enough away from civilisation was on the headland which gave a commanding view of the area, including their pre-positioned vehicles. As the two teams ran down the rear ramp, they were each patted on the shoulder by the loadmaster as he counted them off his helicopter. The ten individuals ran twenty feet before diving to the ground, SIG Sauer assault rifles raised and NVG goggles scanning for any sign of movement beyond the rapidly departing helicopter whose downdraft threatened to blow the smaller members over the cliff edge.

Once the noisy machine was gone, heading out to sea, the two teams headed down a steep path towards the east in two parallel but staggered columns, each person searching their sector for any sign of the movement, or danger. There was a stiff wind blowing from the north and it was cold, there was the hint of rain too, just to add to the night's impending entertainment. Moral was high, and they were all pleased to be finally going into action. Boots touched down in the grass silently as the teams moved down the path towards a stone wall with an opening which led onto a road. It did not take them long to reach the opening and they passed through the opening tactically, a pair at a time who quickly took up positions to cover the two roads which came together at the corner where the opening in the stone wall was located. One road led downwards, toward the north and the sea – the other upwards and towards their initial objective. They moved up the road speedily but stealthily. The came across nobody and saw no activity – which was kind of expected for approaching one in the morning. At the top of the small hill, they found a deserted car park – at least it was deserted of cars. Off to one side were a pair of green 40-foot cargo containers labelled up as belonging to the local authority. Crimson and Drift each walked up to a container and after confirming that the discrete anti-tamper seals were still in place, they each unlocked a large steel padlock with a code before unlatching both main doors. Inside the two containers resided their transport for the evening – a pair of Jackal 2 armoured assault vehicles in deep green camouflage paint.

It was a tight squeeze, but Crimson and Drift wormed themselves behind the wheels and they started the 6.7-litre diesel engine before edging the 7-tonne vehicle out of the container. They stopped outside, and the weapons were mounted: an L111A1 M2 Browning in the turret ring with a box of ammunition and in the bow, in front of the navigator in the left-hand seat, the ubiquitous L37A2 General Purpose Machine Gun IN 7.62-millimetre calibre. In the first vehicle, Crimson took the wheel with Prowl beside her on the GPMG. Behind, Nemesis took control of the M2 Browning in the turret ring leaving Ajax and Glide to strap into the passenger seating behind the turret ring. In the second vehicle, Drift drive with Stripe beside him on the GPMG while La Coccinelle took the M2 Browning in the turret ring. That just left Harrier and La Terreaur to strap into the pair of passenger seats.

With a dull roar, the two armoured vehicles departed the car park and they headed east without lights, relying on their NVG systems to see through the darkness.

* * *

 ** _Point Bravo_**

 ** _Cavalier One-Three: Sleuth, Jack Foster, Debbie Grey, Q, Rigour  
Cavalier Two-Three: Sergeant Martin, Lance Corporal Nicol, Marine Scott, Marine Howe_**

The Merlin HC4, callsign: _Twister_ , came in low a bare dozen-feet over the white-tipped waves of Frenchman's Bay before passing to the south of Little Castle Point and sweeping up and over the steep cliffs.

The large triple-engine flying machine touched down a little under six-hundred yards to the southwest of their initial objective to avoid nearby homes. The two teams were countered off by the loadmaster as they ran down the rear ramp and then dropping after twenty feet, their SIG Sauer and L119 Colt Canada C8 assault rifles raised while NVG goggles scanned for any sign of movement beyond the rapidly departing helicopter whose downdraft buffeted the kneeling troops.

As the Royal Navy Merlin HC.4 pivoted and headed back out to sea, the four Royal Marines and the five _Vengeance_ members moved off on a heading of 43-degrees keen to leave the barren cliffs and the high winds behind them. They kept to the northwest to avoid the main road and several houses which sat on that road. It was only a short jog to their initial objective where another pair of containers awaited them. However, there was but a single Jackal 2 available. Instead of a second Jackal 2, a Coyote Tactical Support Vehicle occupied the second container. The Coyote was identical to the Jackal 2 in every way except for the third axle to the rear of the vehicle and the extended load bay. The load bay was occupied by a small container filled with electronic equipment to which Q immediately set to work connecting his laptop. Sleuth took the wheel of the Coyote with Jack Foster in the navigator's seat beside him and Debbie Grey took the M2 Browning in the turret ring. Rigour joined Q, strapping into the two passenger seats in the rear.

The four Royals mounted up on the Jackal 2 and both vehicles exited the car park, turning left and heading north towards Target One.

* * *

 ** _Point Charlie_**

 ** _Cavalier Two-One: Captain McFadden, Corporal Morgan, Marine Lawson, Marine Thornton  
Cavalier Two-Two: Corporal Franklin, Marine Freeman, Marine Angus, Marine Coleman_**

The Merlin, callsign: _Vortex_ , settled into the moist grass in the field a dozen yards from a pair of steel cargo containers.

Once the helicopter had departed, the area was cleared, and the containers checked before the pair of Jackal 2 armoured assault vehicles were removed and prepared for the impending attack. The two Jackal 2s headed southwest across the fields, avoiding the roads. That was no problem for the off-road vehicle which could maintain almost fifty-miles-per-hour over rough terrain.

Considering that the vehicles had been designed for the harsh mountains and unforgiving terrain of Afghanistan, Wales was child's play.

* * *

 ** _02:20_**

 ** _120 Miles to the southeast_**

 ** _RNAS Yeovilton  
Yeovil, England_**

"Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Keira Sharp turned from the chart table to find a naval rating standing at attention.

"Yes."

"All ground forces are safely on the ground and moving to their attack positions, ma'am."

"Thank you, sailor."

Keira breathed a sigh of relief. The wait for information had been intolerable but Keira had been busy preparing for the forthcoming action and that had kept her attention away from her friends who were stepping into danger. She too would be following once the Cavalier Flight was loaded and ready. She had not seen the flight line at Yeovilton so busy in a long time. Upwards of twenty helicopters were arrayed on the tarmac in various stages of armament. It was an interesting mix too. _Cavalier Three-One_ : _TWILIGHT,_ was receiving the last of her armament, a second AGM-114 Hellfire missile on the starboard weapons pylon to join the first. On the port weapons pylon, the Agusta-Westland AW109LUH attack helicopter carried her usual 12.7-millimetre machine-gun pod with three 70-millimetre armour-piercing rockets. A few yards away, _Cavalier Three-_ _Two_ : _SCOURGE_ , was being loaded with a pair of Hellfire missiles to starboard with an M134D minigun and M260 seven-round rocket launcher to port. Behind _SCOURGE_ and _TWILIGHT_ , four Army Air Corps No.661 Squadron Agusta-Westland Wildcat AH1 helicopters were being fitted with there own four AGM-114 Hellfire missiles and pintle-mounted M3M Browning .50-calibre machine-guns. Six Army Air Corps No.653 Squadron Agusta-Westland Apache AH1 attack helicopters were ready for action, each armed with eight Hellfire missiles and a pair of rocket pods, plus their standard M230 30-millimetre chain gun.

Beyond the armed helicopters, six Royal Navy 846 Naval Air Squadron Merlin HC3 helicopters were being configured for casualty evacuation and battlefield support. They were soon joined by the trio of Merlin HC4 helicopters returning from their successful insertion mission. They were rapidly refuelled and prepared for the next phase of the operation. Chief was busy checking the two helicopters under his command but also liaising with the various squadrons – some of whom he used to work with when in the service, so he knew how things worked. The Naval Air Station was filled with a purpose and every part of the facility had thrown open its doors to assist in the preparation – nobody was sleeping, and every helicopter was being checked and rechecked prior to launch in around three hours' time.

Keira went back to her attack planning with Trevor and Adrien.

* * *

 _"Forward, the Light Brigade!"  
Was there a man dismayed?  
Not though the soldier knew  
Someone had blundered.  
Theirs not to make reply,  
Theirs not to reason why,  
Theirs but to do and die.  
Into the valley of Death  
Rode the six hundred._

* * *

 ** _03:00_**

 ** _The Radford Group HQ  
Radford Air Facility_**

 ** _South Wales_**

Sebastian Radford was in a decidedly moderate mood.

Surprising, considering he was only hours away from being overrun by the armed forces of the United Kingdom. Yes, he knew what was going on. His informants had kept him fully informed about what was going on in London. There was still a slim chance that everything would come to a grinding halt and the Government would fall. Thanks to a minister still on his payroll, the attack on his facility may never happen – or at least, it would go so badly wrong that the operation would be stopped. Right at that moment, he knew that there were half a dozen reconnaissance units arrayed around the airfield and he knew that they would be targeting his own home, a mile to the south.

"Sir, they're about to cross the threshold."

"Okay," Radford directed. "Take them out – let's put an end to this."

* * *

 ** _03:34_**

 ** _Cavalier One-One: Crimson, Nemesis, Glide, Prowl, Ajax_**

 ** _Northwest corner of the Radford Air Facility_**

It was Ajax's keen eyes which first saw the flash as the FGM-148 javelin anti-tank-missile as the weapon tore through the air at well over 500 miles-per-hour.

There were just seconds to react as Crimson floored the accelerator and Glide threw a flare out the rear of the vehicle while Prowl triggered off four of the vehicles sixteen smoke grenade launchers. The vehicle accelerated forwards leaving the infra-red-guided missile to home in on the red-hot flare. The 8.4-kilogramme shaped charge detonated as the missile struck the ground and exploded into a large fireball a dozen yards behind the fleeing Jackal 2.

"I think somebody knows we're here," Nemesis commented unnecessarily.

"No fucking shit, Sherlock!" Ajax exclaimed.

The thirteen-year-old had been feeling a little frightened by where she was and what she was doing but being attacked by a missile had scared her badly. She grasped her bucking seat as the vehicle bounced over the varied terrain, racing southeast to attack their primary target at the northern end of the airfield from the south. Considering that they had just been attacked, stealth was no longer a factor as they drove across the runways and taxiways, ignoring rights of way, and smashing through fences and gates. Prowl depressed the triggers of the GPMG mounted before her as a pair of Wolf Land Rovers crossed their path, spitting fire from their own mounted weaponry. Bullets pinged off the armoured sides of the Jackal 2 as one of the Wolfs crashed off to one side as Prowl found her target and she killed the driver. The other Wolf crashed into a concrete structure and exploded as Nemesis drilled the vehicle with .50-calibre rounds from her L111A1 Browning.

Disconcertingly, gunfire could be heard coming from the northeast and the southeast of the airfield, indicating that the other _Cavalier_ groups were also under attack.

* * *

 ** _Cavalier One-Two: Drift, Stripe, Harrier, La Coccinelle, La Terreaur_**

Drift drove after the other Jackal 2 in support with Stripe and La Coccinelle pouring lethal gunfire in any direction there was trouble.

That bastard Radford, he appeared to have lots of men and lots of armed vehicles. Many were Army vehicles which were in for repairs. They were well-armoured and resistant to their lighter weapons. However, they could not stand up to the heavier rounds of the M2 Browning, nor the grenades which Harrier lobbed in the general direction of the inbound vehicles. The eleven-year-old whooped with joy when he managed a hit on a Wolf Land Rover, destroying the engine and allowing La Coccinelle to riddle the vehicle with .50-calibre rounds. After a brief dash, they found themselves at the maintenance hangers and that was when things _really_ started to go very wrong.

"Is that a fucking Scimitar!" Drift exclaimed as a tracked vehicle hove into view from around one of the hangers.

* * *

 ** _03:53_**

 ** _RNAS Yeovilton_**

The news that the ground forces had come under attack had not been welcome.

There was fury amongst the pilots and the desire to get airborne and provide air support to those in danger on the ground. But then had come a 'hold' from COBRA.

"What the fuck!?" Scorpion had exploded on hearing the news.

Her sentiments were not alone. The other pilots were very angry at the news and the bad-mouthing only got worse when it was understood that the amphibious force was, even then, circling in the St George's Channel to kill time until they were given the go-ahead to steam into the Dale Roads and assault the beach at Dale.

Twenty-seven lives were at risk, twenty-seven lives rode on the decision making of the politicians on COBRA, hundreds of miles away in London.

* * *

 ** _03:56_**

 ** _Radford Group HQ_**

 ** _Cavalier Two-One: Captain McFadden, Corporal Morgan, Marine Lawson, Marine Thornton  
Cavalier Two-Two: Corporal Franklin, Marine Freeman, Marine Angus, Marine Coleman_**

Captain McFadden was furious.

The enemy had been seriously underestimated and COBRA was delaying the main assault. Her people were being put at risk – worse, the lives of children forced into a life of killing were also being put at risk. Her Royals knew what they had signed up for and they were a 100% volunteer force, unlike many of those who formed _Vengeance_. She and her men were fighting for their lives as they smashed through the main gates, coming under immediate fire from the men guarding the facility – who were not supposed to be armed in the first place – to whom the Royals responded with their own weapons, Marine Lawson put a grenade from his under-barrel grenade launcher into the gatehouse as they passed and the wooden shack exploded into splinters, putting down several armed men.

The pair of Jackal 2s sped onwards directly towards the headquarters buildings, spouting fire from their combined weapons. The incoming gunfire was furious, but every Royal was a combat veteran and while they did not enjoy being fired upon, they were able to tolerate the plinking and the pounding on the armour which protected them. They approached the largest building which bore the Radford name above the door. The gunfire grew fierce from several directions as they sought cover amongst the buildings.

"This is a fine pickle and no mistake," the captain commented as she threw a grenade off to the left side.

* * *

 ** _Approaching Target One_**

 ** _Cavalier One-Three: Sleuth, Jack Foster, Debbie Grey, Q, Rigour  
Cavalier Two-Three: Sergeant Martin, Lance Corporal Nicol, Marine Scott, Marine Howe_**

As _Cavalier Two-Three_ approached Dale Castle, they received the news that things were not going well at the airfield.

As a result, they abandoned their primary target as their colleagues needed assistance. The operation was coming apart and they desperately needed support but as far as Q could tell, nothing was coming. They had been hung out to dry by Whitehall and they were very much alone. However, the Reaper MQ9A drones had arrived as promised, albeit an hour late and there had been communication issues between their base at RAF Waddington and the teams in the ground. As such, valuable reconnaissance data had been unavailable to the ground teams – information which might have prevented their ambush.

However, the images being relayed were not good as they saw their comrades being encircled less than a mile away.

* * *

 ** _04:34_**

 ** _Aircraft & Weapons Storage  
Radford Air Facility_**

The fifteen _Vengeance vigilantes_ and the twelve Royal Marines of 42 Commando Reconnaissance Troop were in defensive positions between two of the giant aircraft hangers. Royal Marines had taken up positions on the roofs and the Jackal 2s were blocking the area in between the aircraft hangers with the Coyote behind the Jackal 2s. They faced off against close on sixty enemy, not to mention the eight armoured vehicles: Four FV107 Scimitar Mk II light tanks, a pair of Husky's, a Foxhound, and a Ridgeback 4x4.

There were numerous injuries – nothing fatal, or even serious – but morale was still high; they just prayed that COBRA came to a decision and fast. The various burning vehicles scattered around the airfield attested to the ferocity of their defence. Several Wolf Land Rovers and a pair of Husky's were burning furiously. The Husky's had been dispatched by a pair of well-aimed 84-millimetre AT4 anti-tank weapons. For the moment, there was a stalemate as the Royals were giving as good as they got, and Radford was losing men and equipment which he could not easily replace. Therefore, Radford had ordered his men to cease fire and corral the attackers – they were going nowhere, he figured, and he hoped that within the hour, a total stand-down would be ordered from Whitehall and the whole sordid affair would all end with him a winner.

Drift, as the commander of _Vengeance_ , had discussed the situation with the Royal Marines Captain and they had both come to the very same decision. Nobody was surrendering; the stakes were too high.

Radford was going down – no matter what.

* * *

 ** _05:30_**

The man himself appeared from his bunker.

He came out in a Panther armoured command vehicle but stopped within his own lines where his own people could protect him. He grabbed up a megaphone and he began to speak, his voice echoing across the facility with its bright arc lights mired by the thick black smoke from the burning vehicles.

" _Vengeance_ , you have fought gallantly. Worthy of recognition. Now, it is finished. Surrender, and your lives will be spared."

Drift looked toward Captain McFadden who nodded for him to respond.

"We will not be hostages to be bartered, Radford!" Drift yelled back in his electronically enhanced voice.

"Come now, I'm sure we can be reasonable," Radford responded.

"I don't damn well think so!" Crimson yelled back.

"Play for time," Q called out from the Coyote.

Crimson tipped her head quizzically, then Q grinned and she knew what was coming.

"I'll make you a deal, Radford," Drift called out. "You hand yourself over to rot in a cell for the rest of your miserable life and we'll come quietly."

Laughter was heard coming from Radford.

"I will never see the inside of a prison cell – however, you might. You have no way out of here . . . alive. The Royal Marines in there are professionals and they must see the hopelessness of their situation. I have no desire to spill blood unnecessarily, especially not the blood of our brave warriors."

Crimson had had enough the bastard's pontificating and so had the Royals. Q nodded, and Crimson climbed up onto the eastern-most warehouse. She gazed to the east where dawn was breaking, and the first rays of the new day were illuminating the sea and the surrounding hills. Crimson grinned at the sight before her. She turned in the direction of Radford.

"Hey, you dumb bastard!" she yelled before she raised her right hand and she pointed out to see.

Radford was very pleased with himself, however, the bastard appeared momentarily confused by Crimson's antics until he followed her signal and he directed his vision out to sea.

The man blanched as he recognised the immense naval and military firepower which was about to be brought to bear on him and his position.

..._...

Squatting down at anchor, a mile out to sea, the Royal Navy assault ship, HMS Bulwark, became visible as the stiff wind blew away the early morning mists.

The 20,000-tonne vessel was flooded down at the stern, her massive internal dock flooded down to allow her to deploy her landing craft. Beyond the assault ship, a deadly Type 23 frigate provided escort, her Wildcat helicopter lifting off from the flight deck at the stern of the warship. Further out to sea, the unmistakeable shape of a nine-thousand-tonne Type 45 destroyer was visible as it scanned the area for air-threats with its long-range air-surveillance radar and providing air-traffic control for the entire area and directing civilian traffic away from the combat zone. Between the assault ship and the shore, eight landing craft belonging to 4 Assault Squadron Royal Marines and a myriad of smaller shapes moved towards the shore. Two of the 240-tonne Landing Craft Utility (LCU) Mk10 vessels were heavily laden and just reaching the beach. As they beached, the ramps came down and two fearsome beasts roared off the vessels and onto the beach before turning in the direction of the main battlefield, their turret-mounted guns eagerly searching for targets. The other pair of large LCUs dropped their ramps onto the beach to divulge two angry-looking, tracked armoured vehicles each. The four Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel (LCVP) Mk5 vessels all hit the beach and dropped their own ramps, each divulging an articulated tracked vehicle.

Of the smaller craft, ten were the Royal Marine Offshore Raiding Craft, each carrying eight Royal Marine Commandos. The remaining pair were 3 Commando Brigade, Viking tracked assault vehicles of the Royal Marines Armoured Support Group which were 'swimming' ashore from the assault ship while their four colleagues landed 'feet-dry' from the LCVPs.

* * *

 _Cannon to right of them,  
Cannon to left of them,  
Cannon in front of them  
Volleyed and thundered;  
Stormed at with shot and shell,  
Boldly they rode and well,  
Into the jaws of Death,  
Into the mouth of hell  
Rode the six hundred._


	44. Operation Counterstrike - Retribution

_Flashed all their sabres bare,  
Flashed as they turned in air  
Sabring the gunners there,  
Charging an army, while  
All the world wondered.  
Plunged in the battery-smoke  
Right through the line they broke;  
Cossack and Russian  
Reeled from the sabre stroke  
Shattered and sundered.  
Then they rode back, but not  
Not the six hundred._

* * *

 **retribution**

/rɛtrɪˈbjuːʃ(ə)n/

 _noun_

Punishment inflicted on someone as vengeance for a wrong or criminal act.

* * *

 ** _Friday, October 28th, 2016_**

For Police Constable Gwyneth Jones, something was 'going down' but her instructions had been very cryptic, to say the least.

She was to ensure that no civilians were injured during what was described as a military exercise. What the devil the military was doing in Dale in the early hours, she had no idea, but reports were coming in of something going on at the beach north of Dale – something about tanks.

As if!

PC Jones stomped on the brakes and her Peugeot slithered to a halt on the B4327 as something monstrous thundered towards her. She swerved into a small lay-by, just in time, and with a momentous clatter, it was past.

"That was a bloody tank, that was!" she exclaimed as yet another 75-tonne behemoth belted past at almost forty-miles-per-hour.

She was certain that they were exceeding the speed limit by a wide margin – not to mention being way to heavy for the road in question. But how in the devil did you pull over a tank? Before PC Jones could consider that, four more tanks – smaller ones, thundered past.

'Talk about blinking rush hour!' she thought.

* * *

 ** _Radford Air Facility_**

Everything was happening all at once as the sound of powerful diesel engines filled the early morning amid the shouts of men and the roar of machines.

Helicopters appeared out of the steadily lightening sky and they dove on the airfield. Radford was appalled by what was happening. He had never quite understood how pissed off the Prime Minister was and how far she might take her retribution. He had expected an attack, but nothing resembling a major assault from the air and sea. He looked up as a pair of objects streaked overhead, the four EJ200 afterburning turbofans driving the pair of Royal Air Force Typhoon FGR4 fighter/ground-attack aircraft at over 620-knots – Mach 0.95 – at a little over a thousand feet of altitude.

"Fuck!" he growled as he hunkered down in his armoured Panther.

* * *

The Royals sprang to life once the assault was visible.

Tiredness and anger passed very quickly and everybody, including _Vengeance_ , were ready to fight again. The armoured vehicles belonging to the enemy began to shift backwards, fast, but not before a sinister shape unmasked from behind a nearby hanger and its 30-millimetre chain gun shredded a Husky and blew the right-hand track off a Scimitar before it swiftly vanished from sight as heavy-calibre rounds sought out the armoured helicopter. The sound of the Army Air Corps Apache AH.1 as it accelerated to a different attack position filled everybody with courage – they were no longer alone. A second Scimitar blew up a hundred yards distant as a Hellfire missile from a Wildcat struck it on the turret, destroying the vehicle completely.

 _Cavalier Two-One_ and _Cavalier Two-Two_ remounted their vehicles and sped off to attack the headquarters buildings. _Cavalier One-One_ and _Cavalier One-Two_ attacked the remaining pair of aircraft hangers – the other pair, between which they had been hiding were already clear. _Cavalier One-Three_ remained between the hangers for protection as Q provided guidance for the teams. _Cavalier Two-Three_ remained with Cavalier _One-Three_ to provide close protection. Over to the east, there was the resounding blast of a large gun as the L30A1 120-millimetre rifled main gun of a Challenger II main battle tank emitted a single L27A1 armour-piercing fin-stabilized discarding-sabot (APFSDS) round at over 1,500-metres-per-second. A little over a mile away, a Scimitar light tank blew up in a decidedly spectacular fashion as the single round detonated the stored ammunition. The tank accelerated in reverse, the 26-litre 1,200-bhp Perkins CV-12 V12 diesel roaring to power the 75-tonne monster as the main gun sought out a new target. Providing escort for the Challenger II, a pair of FV510 Warrior armoured fighting vehicles (AFVs) flew over the rough terrain, their 30-millimetre L21A1 RARDEN cannons striking out at anything which moved – man or machine.

Driving directly for the airfield, six Vikings of the Royal Marines Armoured Support Group powered across the rough terrain. The twin-cab, fully amphibious tracked vehicles were armed with a .50-calibre M2 Browning and each carried eight Royal Marines towards the combat zone. The first pair came under fire from a Foxhound vehicle with mercenaries in support. The two vehicles slithered to a stop and the sixteen Royal Marines deployed from the rear cabs and took up positions, engaging the mercenaries while the M2 Browning heavy machine-guns engaged the Foxhound. The second and third pair of Vikings were attacked directly by the better-armed Scimitar light tanks and a much more sinister shape which came forth from one of the vehicle maintenance hangers at the north end of the airfield. The four Vikings accelerated for cover as the Challenger II – a virtual twin of the pair nonchalantly laying waste to just about everything on the airfield; one had just squashed a Wolf Land Rover flat – powered in their direction. As of that day, no Challenger II had ever been destroyed in action and to be honest, nobody had a clue how to destroy one – however, two against one were positive odds.

While the three tanks danced around the airfield, everybody else did their best not to get squashed inadvertently while the Warriors protected their superior armoured cousins from attack by the mercenaries with anti-tank weapons.

* * *

 ** _Aircraft & Weapons Storage_**

 ** _Cavalier One-One: Crimson, Nemesis, Glide, Prowl, Ajax  
Cavalier One-Two: Drift, Stripe, Harrier, La Coccinelle, La Terreaur_**

The first hanger was large and had a mezzanine level.

The two teams were required to take the hanger which was protected by at least a dozen bad guys. To make things more difficult, the hanger was occupied with what appeared to be three RAF Hercules C3As in deep maintenance. Crimson and Prowl went first, firing off short bursts of nine-millimetre ammunition from their SIG Sauer MPX submachine-guns. Prowl grinned beneath her mask as a man went down, two bullets blowing apart his face. There was a whoop of joy from Ajax as another guy went down.

"I got one!" she exclaimed happily.

"Bloody hell!" Stripe growled, but he grinned none the less.

With two of their number down, and another wounded, the team protecting the access doorway retreated inwards. Drift ran forwards and he kicked open the access door, dodging the hail of gunfire which welcomed his unwanted appearance. La Coccinelle cartwheeled past Drift and she threw out a pair of disc-shaped devices from her utility belt before diving for cover beside the doorway.

"Feu dans le trou!"

Drift got the message and he dived down as the two flashbangs detonated causing the steel-clad hanger to resonate and clatter from the explosion. La Terreaur, Glide and Ajax dove through the access door and they ran inside the hanger, taking cover behind one of the thirty-metre long Hercules transport aircraft. The mercenaries were beginning to recover, and mounting gunfire came in the direction of the vigilantes. Crimson and Drift returned fire, covering Nemesis, Harrier, and Prowl as they ran forwards. They, in turn, provided covering fire for Glide, Ajax, and La Terreaur as they moved over to the right to cover more of the large hanger.

Crimson and Drift ran forwards with La Coccinelle and Stripe, penetrating deeper into the hanger.

..._...

Nemesis grabbed Prowl and Glide and the three girls ran forwards under the covering fire of Crimson and Drift.

They bounded up a maintenance stair where the sure-footed and surprisingly nimble Glide scrambled up onto the top of the cockpit before running aft along the spine of the aircraft then onto the starboard wing. The youngster saw a head appear below her and she blew it apart with a single bullet before running along the wing and diving across to the wing of the next aircraft. That took her behind a group of mercenaries who were then caught in a crossfire between Glide and Prowl with the added support of Nemesis. La Terreaur joined in the action as she followed in Glide's footsteps before diving off the wing of the second Hercules and she swung around the refuelling probe hanging over the nose of the third Hercules before she landed on top of the cockpit. The French youngster ran along the spine of the Hercules to the wing, targeting more mercenaries from above but receiving a spray of bullets in her own direction, one of which caught the girl in her chest, knocking her backwards. La Coccinelle ran forwards and with vengeance in her heart, she shot down the man who had struck her own girl down.

"Tu as blessé?" La Coccinelle called up to the wing.

"Non, je vais bien."

La Terreaur rolled over onto her front and she scrambled back to her feet waving down at La Coccinelle before running off along the wing.

..._...

As Prowl ran to support Glide, many men appeared on the mezzanine level, towards the rear of the hanger – apparently via a rear door.

Prowl dived down onto the ground as dozens of bullets peppered the white-painted concrete floor around her – despite her training, she was scared, and every bullet strike unnerved her. Then, she felt a reassuring hand on her clothing and she felt herself yanked to her feet and she was pulled up the open rear ramp of the nearest Hercules. Prowl fell to the aluminium deck of the transport and, on turning to look up at her saviour, the youngster was very surprised to look up into the masked face of Ajax.

"Hi," Ajax said simply as she covered the ramp with her SIG Sauer sub-machinegun.

"Hi – thanks," Prowl replied.

"Don't mention it!"

Ajax was very tired, but the adrenalin was flowing and that alone was keeping her going, despite the intense fear which she felt. Her mind was telling her she was in danger and that she needed to find safety – basically, to run away, but she was not abandoning her friends.

"Scared?"

"Fuck, yeah!" Ajax replied.

"Me, too."

"You?" Ajax was astounded.

"I'm a _Predator_ , not stupid."

Ajax laughed as she squeezed off a short burst when she saw a mercenary move past the open ramp – she caught him in his right side and the man fell scrambling for safety. Another bullet came from somewhere, putting the poor bastard out of his misery. Ajax jumped as she heard a thump on the top of the aircraft above their heads. They both ran down the ramp and looked up above them. Glide was facing off against a man who was maybe five or six times her size.

They both ran to clamber up onto the mezzanine to then dive onto the top of the Hercules in support of their younger pal.

..._...

Glide was not happy, but she went with it.

Despite a warning shout from Nemesis, Glide had run towards the men and one of them had seen the eight-year-old vigilante as an easy target. The man was large, and his size had always been a bonus when it came to intimidating people. He was an American and he had a thing about hurting people – the main reason behind him being given the boot from the US Army some years before. He was also angry having lost some friends to _Vengeance_ , just a few days previously during an attack at sea. The scrawny masked wretch in combat gear before him was a tempting target and an easy one. The girl reached up and over her shoulders, bringing her hands back down, each filled with a modified climbing axe.

"These belonged to my friend," she growled. "I think it is time to bloody them and I am going to use _your_ blood."

"In your fucking dreams, you little whelp!" the man responded with a smirk as he drew a large Bowie knife.

Glide took up a fighting stance at the rear of the wing with the twin axes ready. The man strode towards her down the length of the starboard wing. He struck out with his right fist missing Glide as she dove towards the front of the aircraft, swinging an axe at the man's leg as she passed. The bastard dodged, laughing as he kicked out, catching Glide in the side. The girl yelled out in pain, full of anger as she turned and flew at the man. He was surprised by the swift move and he received the four-inch toothed blade in his left calf as a reward for his hesitation. The man yelled like an enraged bull and he lashed out at Glide smashing the girl down onto the wing. Glide yelled out in pain, but she kicked out and leapt to her feet, just as mad as her opponent. She drove forwards, lashing out with an axe which was parried aside by the blade which came very close to striking Glide – the bastard's arms were a lot longer than Glide's, giving him a distinct advantage.

But before either Glide or her new friend could reattack, there was a tremendous roar from directly outside the hanger which then shook violently before the closest steel wall exploded inwards as the backend of a Challenger II tank burst through striking the Hercules with a glancing blow. The mercenary Glide was fighting fell from the wing, landing on the rear deck of the main battle tank. Unfortunately for the man, the tank kept moving, swivelling the rear away from him and he rolled backwards scrabbling for a handhold, but his hands found nothing as he rolled off the right-rear quarter of the tank just as the backend reversed its movement and then Glide winced as the man was quite-literally squished, a massive pool of blood spreading across the formerly immaculate floor.

"Clean-up, aisle five!" Glide shouted as the tank wrenched itself loose from the hanger and it roared away.

..._...

As the teams left the hanger and remounted their vehicles before heading west, the Type 45 destroyer in the bay, _HMS DUNCAN_ , came onto the radio net.

 _"All Cavalier units . . . all Cavalier units. Air raid warning red . . . air raid warning red . . . Inbound aircraft, two-six-eight!"_

The destroyer had broadcasted numerous warnings over all the usual emergency radio channels prior to issuing her air raid warning. However, the rules of engagement issued by the Admiralty were very clear. As the _DUNCAN_ accelerated hard to move clear of the land, there was a roar along with a belch of flame and smoke as four Sea Viper surface-to-air missiles blasted clear of the Type 45 destroyer's vertical launch system before tipping over and diving onto the approaching sub-sonic contacts. In the operations room, the Chief Petty Officer at the Sea Viper console monitoring the Sampson radar watched his missiles streak towards the contacts at Mach 3.5 without the contacts even knowing that they were being targeted until the missiles were far too close. The four Airbus H145M helicopters were still over the sea as they jinked, and flares erupted into the sky along with clouds of chaff – all to no avail as pair by pair, the chief watched his four missiles and the four contacts fade from his display.

Four more contacts were closing on the mainland but before the chief could re-engage, a pair of scheduled aircraft flew high over the Irish Sea and the DUNCAN's principal warfare officer ordered, "Weapons tight!"

* * *

 _Cannon to right of them,  
Cannon to left of them,  
Cannon behind them  
Volleyed and thundered;  
Stormed at with shot and shell,  
While horse and hero fell.  
They that had fought so well  
Came through the jaws of Death,  
Back from the mouth of hell,  
All that was left of them,  
Left of six hundred._

* * *

 ** _TWILIGHT & SCOURGE_**

Scorpion was in her element as she led the four Wildcat AH1 helicopters around the airfield with _SCOURGE_.

It was getting difficult see what was going on below as columns of thick black smoke rose into the sky. Below her, the Apache attack helicopters were making a complete nuisance of themselves as they roamed around the airfield, apparently without a care in the world. Scorpion's flight targeted important vehicles and buildings, which included destroying the aircraft control tower with a single well-placed Hellfire missile from _Cavalier Three-Four_.

 _"Cavalier Flight, this is Sentry one-zero-one you have traffic coming from the north at angels two. Classified as bogey at this time."_

The RAF Boeing E-3D Sentry AEW.1 was cruising at an altitude of 35,000-feet, somewhere over eastern England. It's rotating radar dome scanning for hundreds of miles in every direction.

" _Cavalier Flight_ copies," Scorpion responded.

 _"Devil Flight, this is Sentry one-zero-one, turn onto two-seven-one and increase speed to eight-hundred, maintain angels ten."_

Scorpion grinned as she heard two loud claps of thunder several miles away over the water as the two Typhoons punched through the sound barrier as they intercepted the inbound bogeys. The Chief pointed downwards to where a pair of Jackal 2 vehicles zig-zagged their way across the airfield. Readily visible flying from each vehicle was the deep-blue flag with the twin sabres forming the 'V' of Vengeance.

Scorpion dived to escort her comrades towards their target.

* * *

 ** _Cavalier One-One: Crimson, Nemesis, Glide, Prowl, Ajax  
Cavalier One-Two: Drift, Stripe, Harrier, La Coccinelle, La Terreaur_**

Before their arrival, the airfield had been clean, tidy, and very smart.

However, in the past hour, the runway was pitted with the damage from explosives and littered with the components that had once made up a complicated, expensive military vehicle before a shell or a missile had reduced said vehicle to beyond its component parts. Ajax grimaced as she spied various body parts which while recognisable gave no idea how they had once been joined together. She willed her stomach not to empty itself and embarrass her. She looked up as a helicopter flew past – she instantly recognised _TWILIGHT_ and grinned. They slowed as a Husky appeared up ahead with a man holding an anti-tank rocket to his shoulder sticking out of the turret. The man turned as he heard a roar from his right and the man fired off his rocket. The rocket collided with the turret of an approaching Challenger II tank which was fresh from its successful battle with Radford's own Challenger II which had been abandoned by its crew once both sets of tracks had been destroyed. Then the warhead detonated. Talk about a red flag to a raging bull! The tank was undamaged, naturally, but the crew were pissed. The main gun elevated, and the turret came around somewhat speedily. The unfortunate cunt who had fired the rocket only had time to shout a warning to his driver before the massive tank bucked on its suspension as the rifled 120-millimetre gun recoiled backwards. The shell took mere seconds to travel the short distance and it totally obliterated the errant cunt along with his vehicle.

Another Husky appeared, and Scorpion brought _TWILIGHT_ around to attack but the vehicle blew up as _SCOURGE_ shot past, the M134 minigun still spinning.

* * *

 ** _Target One_**

The castle was old, but it had been rebuilt many times over the past two-hundred years.

Naturally, the gates were closed. However, a discretely placed L2A1 Matador rocket fired by Cameron brought down a large section of the boundary wall after a thunderous explosion. As the wall crumbled, the pair of Jackal 2s bounced over the destroyed rubble with surprising ease as they closed the main building. Almost instantly, the teams came under fire as they deployed from the armoured vehicles in their two teams. Obviously, Radford had kept some men behind at his home – or maybe the man himself was present; they could only hope. The wooden front door was taken off its hinges by several breaching rounds from Stripe's combat shotgun. Flashbangs were thrown into the entrance hall followed by bullets from their submachine-guns. Stripe had taken a liking to his newly-acquired Fostech Origin-12 short-barrelled shotgun and after switching out the 8-round magazine for one filled with something more lethal than a breaching round, he took great pleasure in blasting some cunt almost in half with a two-round burst. Ajax grinned as she followed her man – she thought he looked awesome!

Glide and Prowl teamed up with La Terreaur as they moved out to search the expansive building. The fighting, a mile away to the north, was easily heard through the thick walls of the 'castle'. The three girls were a perfect team with almost identical _Predator_ skills which allowed each one to know the others moves. As such, any mercenary they met seriously wished for a career change – assuming they actually had the time to consider that thought before a bullet scrambled their brains. Glide was angry – she had hoped never to kill again after being rescued from her former life. Only, she had killed so many times since . . . and she hated it . . . but for her dead friend, she would keep on killing, if only to avenge her death. Prowl had seen her cousin's anger growing and the little girl could get really angry when she was provoked. She was doing all she could to protect her cousin but that was not easy. La Terreaur surprised a mercenary as he came down a narrow staircase behind the kitchen and Prowl drove her combat knife into the bastard's side, twisting it savagely before La Terreaur drove her own blade into his neck.

Prowl fired off two rounds, double-tapping another mercenary in the forehead as she protected her friends.

..._...

Ajax was having the time of her life as she protected the back of her boyfriend.

Stripe blew apart anything in his way, including doors, mercenaries, windows, mercenaries, and the odd door or two. Ajax figured that Stripe was enjoying his new toy just a little too much and he was on round number forty-six – Ajax was counting. She herself managed to get a couple of shots in herself, dropping a mercenary and adding to her own growing personal body count.

"You two okay?" Nemesis asked as she appeared with La Coccinelle.

"No problems here," Ajax commented as she stepped over a freshly dead body.

"Just having fun," Stripe added as he reloaded his monster shotgun.

..._...

It was Glide who found her.

The bitch was with her father and they were both running along an upstairs landing when Glide passed through a doorway and she found herself facing the two most-wanted. She wanted to just gun them down, only, she wanted them to pay and to pay big before anything 'permanent' should occur. Prowl and La Terreaur appeared on the scene and they both ran at Radford who snapped off a pair of wild shots with his pistol while Glide faced off against Scarlett who hesitated as she brought up her own pistol. With hardly any effort, Glide ripped the pistol from Scarlett's right hand and threw it down the landing.

"You are going to pay for what you did to Harper, you bitch!"

"I didn't. . ."

Scarlett was cut off as Glide kicked the older girl against the wall. Scarlett screamed at the sharp pain but she knew that she would have to fight if she wanted to live. Her father was receiving kick after kick and punch after punch from the other pair of girls. It was immediately obvious to Scarlett that she and her father could have been shot dead at first sight, but instead the girls before her were playing with them. It was also obvious to Scarlett that they were _Predators_ , just like Harper. Scarlett backed up against the wall beside a staircase.

"I . . . I don't want to fight . . . I don't have a weapon – _please!_ "

Glide glanced around and she yanked a mounted cutlass down from the wall and she threw it at the girl.

"Now you do."

Scarlett caught the weapon and she felt fear like she had never known before. Her hands shook violently as she took hold of the cutlass properly. Her father had ensured that the fiery thirteen-year-old could look after herself and since the age of seven, she had received training on weapons and some limited Martial Arts. Most she had forgotten as she had not been keeping it up over the past couple of years – however, she had been forced to use some of her skills to control that girl before she had succumbed to her torture and lost the will to fight back. She had not touched a sword since she was about ten – that had been when the allure of fighting had left her and she had rebelled against her training. Her father had given up forcing her, knowing that his rebellious daughter had the basic skills which she needed to survive.

Glide could see the fear in her opponents face and she was pleased. Her hate for the girl was immense and the mere thought of the girl suffering, at least as much as Harper had, gave the youngster the most amazing feeling. She lazily moved the cutlass, just enough to threaten but not hurt – too much. Hit Girl called it 'playing with your food', much like a cat would with a freshly caught mouse. Glide actually laughed as the tip of her cutlass ripped open the girl's blouse, drawing blood, and causing the girl to scream out in pain. Glide struck again – more blood, and another cut – and again, slashing the girl's jeans and ripping open her left thigh. The girl had had enough and with tears of frustration spilling down her face, she attacked. She brought the heavy cutlass down fast, just missing Glide but giving the younger girl something to think about as she jumped backwards and to one side.

Glide kicked Scarlett in the stomach sending the older girl flying backwards and into the wooden banisters which did not stop her momentum as she tumbled over the banister and fell down the stairs with a thundering crash.

..._...

Glide looked at her partners who were busy attacking Radford before she dived over the bannister and dropped down onto the stairs, landing like a cat.

Scarlett Radford was in a lot of pain. Her bottom and her shoulder blades hurt from where they had struck the hardwood staircase as she had slid and rolled down to the floor below. The thirteen-year-old lay on her front sobbing, in too much pain to move. She hoped that it was all over and that she would be shown some mercy . . . only, her torture was not quite ended. With a scream, she felt her long red hair being yanked backwards, and she had no choice but to sit back onto her bottom as her head was yanked backward so that she was looking up into a face mask trimmed with black and blue. Scarlett shook with fear as she looked for any form of respite in the mask but all she found was a total lack of any emotion whatsoever – that was when the girl lost control of her bladder and she felt intense shame as the warmth spread through her jeans.

"Get up!" Glide growled in her electronically enhanced voice which frightened the older girl and to make things worse, the eyes glowed a dull green in the semidarkness of the landing where she sat in the warmth of her own urine. "Get up or I kill you now!"

Scarlett shook from head to toe as she struggled to her feet, feeling warm liquid running down the inside of her jeans.

"Pick it up."

Scarlett shook her head as her cutlass was kicked towards her. Reluctantly, she picked up the blade and she faced off against the much shorter girl. She had hoped that her father would come for her, but he was still fighting up above and she was alone. Then she heard his voice as she fought off the masked bitch.

"Scarlett!"

"DADDY!"

There was a fusillade of gunfire from above them and for a moment, she glimpsed her father as he called down again.

"I'm sorry."

"DADDY!"

He was leaving her! She was astounded. He had not been the best father, ever, but he was still her father and . . . _he had left her_. Her father had distracted her, and she had not noticed that Glide appeared to have tired of any more torture. Scarlett turned back to the fight and she saw the opposing cutlass weeping horizontally towards her. It was like slow motion to her and then like watching a horror film as she saw the blade coming into contact with her right wrist. The blade bit deep into the flesh and bone, severing the hand just above the right wrist. The girl screamed as the effects of the assault on her limb struck her nervous system before her pain centres were instantly overwhelmed. She was mesmerised as she stared down at her own hand as it fell to the ground, seemingly in slow motion, still clutching the cutlass. She sank to the floor, onto her knees before finding herself on her bottom. Her wrist looked weird and blood was pumping out and the sight intrigued her overwhelmed mind. Then she snapped back to reality and the noise, the screaming. It was her own screaming, then her mouth was grabbed by a hand and she stopped screaming.

"I am not going to kill you – that would be too good for you, bitch. Every time you look at where your hand was, each time you go to wipe your fucking twat, you will remember Harper."

The voice faded and then she felt somebody lying her down but then . . . nothing.

..._...

Prowl and La Terreaur had enjoyed the fight with Radford, only his goons had appeared at the last minute cutting off their fun.

However, they had dropped a pair of those goons before they had called in and reported Radford's escape. They had watched him climb into an armoured Range Rover alone – he had run out of goons – and then the bastard drove off towards the south. Q received the alert and he immediately notified Scorpion – she was the first port of call for everything concerning Radford. The news that Radford was in the open was the best news that the young pilot had heard all day. She had a single Hellfire missile with his name on it and it was ready to launch – she just needed a target. After a short alteration of course, she quickly identified the fleeing Range Rover as it raced south towards St Anne's Head and what could only be a helicopter sitting on the helipad close to the lighthouse.

However, that situation soon resolved itself. Scorpion looked upwards as her eyes were attracted to a flash and then the helicopter sitting on the helipad beside the lighthouse exploded as a Hellfire missile fired from a Reaper drone, orbiting thousands of feet above her, struck the aircraft, destroying it in a cloud of flames. The explosion infuriated the man in the fleeing Range Rover. He had been outmanoeuvred at every turn by those _Vengeance_ bastards. He had lost a valuable container ship – he was still very angry about that – and just that morning he had lost dozens of men and his entire organisation.

He had nowhere left to go, so he slowed slightly as he gathered his thoughts.

..._...

High above, the Chief checked the FLIR and he pressed a few buttons on the fire control computer.

"Ready," he commented.

" _Ratchet Force_ , Scorpion, I have business for you. Ground target moving at speed south of Target One, lasing on fourteen."

The pair of Challenger II main battle tanks of The King's Royal Hussars, 12th Armoured Infantry Brigade had been enjoying their morning and between squishing bad guys and destroying enemy vehicles, they had accomplished their objectives and their mounts were undamaged. Without hesitation, the gunners slaved their fire control systems onto channel fourteen and within seconds, they each had a lock. No matter what the Challenger II did, or how it manoeuvred, the lock would not be broken. The same applied to the target for that matter – it was toast, no matter what it did, and so long as it did not drive over a cliff it remained within easy range.

"Kill it!" Scorpion announced as she fired off her remaining AGM-114 Hellfire missile at the same time as the two tanks each triggered off a CHARM 3 APFSDS L27A1 shell. "This is for you, Harps," she whispered to herself.

The missile and the shells arrived simultaneously, and the Range Rover was not simply blown apart, it disintegrated with the body of Sebastian Radford vaporised by the fiery explosion. Scorpion hovered a short distance away, savouring the hit and the flames along with the overwhelming feeling of revenge.

It was not closure – far from it – but at least it was something.

* * *

Back at the airfield, the endgame was in play.

There were heading on for two hundred military personnel on the airfield and they hugely outnumbered the pitiful remnants of Radford's defensive forces. A sweep of the entire airfield and every building was underway. The fierce fighting was still not at an end but there was no realistic hope for the mercenaries who did not yet know that the man who paid them was currently burning furiously a mile or so away from them. The Radford Group was folding. All its assets were being seized by the Government – bank accounts, buildings; everything that the man had owned or been involved with was forfeit. Ultimately, it had taken a direct order from the Prime Minister herself to commit the amphibious assault. She had overruled COBRA and she had a distinct idea who had attempted to scupper Operation Counterstrike even before it had got fully underway. The fallout from the operation and from Radford's demise would be spectacular. A DSMA-Notice (formally the ubiquitous D-Notice) had already been issued to all editors for the major newspapers and news channels including the BBC. For the moment, events in Wales would not be reported. There would be speculation and there would be conspiracy theories – there always was.

It was very possible that the citizens of the United Kingdom might never know how close their country had come to meltdown and even civil war.

..._...

As the Royal Marines Commandos moved through the partially-destroyed buildings, checking for any remaining insurgents, a Royal Marine Corporal paused outside a solid-looking steel door that to him, appeared to be the door to a cell. He called for two fellow Royal Marines to bring some C4 explosives.

A large bang later, the three Royal Marines forced open the steel door and they moved the bright light from a torch around what was obviously a cell. They almost missed it – a shape in the gloom, covered in dust and fallen masonry. The Corporal moved forwards and he threw off several bricks and some wood from where they had rested on the shape. He hesitantly pulled back a dusty, dirty blanket and he indicated for the Royal Marine with the torch to bring the light closer. Then he looked more closely at the shape, then closer still as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Medic!" the stunned Royal Marine bellowed as more of the wreckage was quickly cleared away.

* * *

 _When can their glory fade?  
O the wild charge they made!  
All the world wondered.  
Honour the charge they made!  
Honour the Light Brigade,  
Noble six hundred!_

\- Alfred, Lord Tennyson


	45. Operation Counterstrike - Relief

_"I would say to the House as I said to those who have joined this government: 'I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat . . .' You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: Victory. Victory at all costs — Victory in spite of all terror — Victory, however long and hard the road may be, for without victory there is no survival."_

 _\- Winston Churchill_

* * *

 **relief**

/rɪˈliːf/

 _noun_

A feeling of reassurance and relaxation following release from anxiety or distress.

* * *

 ** _Friday, October 28th, 2016_**

 ** _Radford Air Facility_**

Thick smoke swirled around the battlefield as the guns all fell silent.

Mist and more smoke from the sea intermingled with that from the land as the naval guns also fell silent as troop-carrying Merlin HC.4 helicopters descended out of the smoke and swirling mists dropping medical personnel at strategic locations around the wreckage-strewn airfield. The airfield was secure and the Royal Marines were in full control of the facility. There were some sporadic gunshots and a few explosions here and there but that was just mopping up. Everywhere you looked, you saw grinning faces – they had won. They had beaten the enemy – not that that had been much of a surprise. You took on the Royal Marines and the chances of you winning were low . . . very low . . . low enough as to be almost non-existent. Everybody was relieved that it was over and that they could ease off, if only for a moment. There was still plenty of work to be done – prisoners to be rounded up, booby traps to be disarmed, and a host of other things.

At Target One, Royal Marines were sifting through the wreckage, searching for any remaining bad guys. Glide slumped down against a wall as the noise of battle faded.

"You okay, honey?" Nemesis asked.

Glide looked up at her mother.

"Can we go home now, please?" the exhausted eight-year-old asked.

"Yes, honey, it's all over."

Glide jumped to her feet feeling a lot happier. As Glide, Prowl, La Terreaur, Ajax, and Drift were walking back up the road towards the airfield with Nemesis when they approached one of the Challenger II tanks as it lay parked up at the side of the road. The four-man crew were sitting on the top of their tank enjoying a brew and digging into their ration packs – the Challenger II, like all British armoured fighting vehicles, carried a boiling vessel producing instant hot water allowing the crew to enjoy their mugs of tea within minutes of stopping.

"Well, hello, Vengeance – how are you doing today?" the commander, a British Army Lieutenant asked.

"Very good, thanks," Nemesis replied.

"Anything left unsquished?" Ajax asked.

"Don't think so," the gunner replied as he looked over at the driver.

"Nah, don't think I missed anything," the driver quipped with a grin.

They left the tank behind and headed on towards the airfield.

..._...

Scorpion set _TWILIGHT_ down beside a pair of Wildcat helicopters and she rapidly shut down the aircraft before unstrapping.

She was exhausted, and she needed to stretch her legs. As she exited the aircraft, she was stopped by a female sailor in her shipboard RNPCS uniform.

"Some hot coffee, ma'am?"

"You're a saviour, sailor!" Scorpion exclaimed as she accepted the plastic mug of steaming fluid.

"Bacon butty, ma'am?" a male colleague asked handing Scorpion a foil-wrapped bundle.

"Perfect timing, thanks."

Scorpion chomped on the bacon roll and sipped the steaming coffee as she walked around her helicopter. She was quickly joined by the Chief who was sipping his own mug of coffee, a half-eaten bacon butty in his own hand. The battle-damage wasn't too bad, they both thought as they talked between themselves. Then Scorpion began to hear shouting, lots of it. A Royal Marine pointed at a pair of Royal Navy medics and he waved them towards a loitering Viking which roared off the moment they were aboard, heading towards the northern section of the airfield. Fifteen minutes later, the Viking was back, driving at speed before skidding to a halt at the edge of the helicopter landing zone. A few yards away from Scorpion, the Forward Air Controller, a Royal Navy lieutenant, was radioing for an urgent medevac, but from the radio chatter, Scorpion understood that no helicopters were available right at that moment.

"Can I help – my bird is still warm?" Scorpion asked the officer.

"We have a young girl – she was pulled from the wreckage . . ."

"What!?" Scorpion exclaimed as she ran over to the rear of the Viking and she froze as she stared inside the rear cabin of the articulated vehicle.

There was a single stretcher inside. The body on the stretcher was dirty and barely recognisable but it was definitely a little girl, and she was breathing. As the medic wiped away some of the grime on the little girl's face, Scorpion began to shake from head to toe.

"Harper!" she almost shouted, before her professionalism took over. "Get her into _Twilight_ – I launch in one minute," she ordered.

The Chief was already aboard and flipping switches as the Royal Navy medic seized the girl and he carried her aboard the helicopter while Scorpion completed the start-up procedure. _TWILIGHT_ was airborne seconds later and making directly for HMS BULWARK with her state-of-the-art medical facilities, not to mention a trauma surgeon. As Scorpion approached, a Merlin lifted off from the forward '1' spot and she was ordered to land directly and relaunch once her cargo was offloaded.

It wrenched at her heart to see her sister rushed off into the enormous grey superstructure, but she knew that Harper would gain the best of care – probably even better, considering she was a child.

..._...

As she launched from _HMS BULWARK_ , Scorpion came around to the south, as directed, before passing over the Type 45 destroyer _HMS DUNCAN_ as she angled back towards the land.

She cranked on the power and then flew over the battlefield, taking a few moments to compose herself before she settled _TWILIGHT_ into a grassy field just to the northwest of the airfield. Once on the ground, she shut down the engines but allowed the rotors to keep spinning as she pulled off her helmet and her mask. The Chief followed suit and he smiled.

"She's alive, Keira. We both saw her."

"I've got to tell people . . . but how?"

"I'm here, okay?"

"Thanks, David."

Keira took several deep breaths, holding the last for a moment before breathing out. She hesitated but then she pulled her helmet back on and adjusted the microphone.

"You have a _Vengeance_ -only, channel," David prompted.

" _Vengeance_ , this is Scorpion – heads up! We've been through a lot, but the past week has been hell. On that note, I have some news. . ." Keira said before her voice began to waver. "I don't know how to say it . . . she's alive . . ."

Keira could say no more as she began to sob. David took over as he heard chatter over the radio.

"Has she bloody lost it?" Prowl demanded.

"Is she saying what I think she's saying?" Glide added.

"Harper is alive," David explained. "I've seen her – now, she's in a bad way and she's got a long road ahead of her but she's breathing and she's in one piece. She's aboard the _Bulwark_ with the surgeons and they're looking after her. We won, guys, and we're all still alive. Maybe a few more bumps and scratches but we're damn well still breathing, _ALL_ of us."

Keira smiled through her tears of joy as she heard cheering and whooping over the radio channel. For over a week, she had thought her sister to be dead, but she had been unable to mourn. Maybe, deep in her heart, she had always known that her little sister was still alive. They were both somehow linked, even when separated.

Finally, Keira sorted herself out and they received orders to make for RNAS Yeovilton.

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

There was immense happiness aboard the yacht as the news came over the radio.

They had been cut out of the operation and apart from radio chatter, they really had no idea what was going on. Sarah had been pacing the bridge with Jessica and Mary while Alya had been in the command centre with Ginny and Christopher monitoring the communications. It had not been easy for any of them waiting on the sidelines while their friends had been in a combat zone. They knew that things had started to go wrong soon after their landing but thankfully things had worked out. The news that Radford was dead was well received. Even better, hearing about Harper was simply amazing. Despite Mary's concerns with Harper and how the foul-mouthed younger girl had quite literally beaten the Princess into pulp during training, she was more than happy to hear that she was alive. The Princess owed Harper a lot – she may not be alive without the intensive training from the often-harsh _Predator_. Mary wished that she had been able to go with the fighting force, but she had not bothered wasting breath asking to go.

In retrospect, she had seen way too much combat already and the nightmares of the experiences and each person she had killed were still very vivid in her mind.

* * *

 ** _Radford Air Facility_**

The prisoners on shore were receiving harsh treatment.

They were traitors to the Crown. However, their treatment got considerably worse once the Royal Marines became aware of Harper's plight. The fact that a little girl had been imprisoned and tortured by Radford's organisation reduced the status of the prisoners from simple traitors to something lower than pond scum. The Royals were in a foul mood and Raptor had seen more than one prisoner suffer 'an accident' – not very professional, but the Royals were not about to let the men off the hook. If the Royals had known about Harper during the fighting – not a single mercenary would have survived the battle.

Jasper was not all that happy with the injuries. Nobody had been killed, but the _BULWARK_ and the medics ashore were inundated with wounded. Some of the injuries were serious and a few life-threatening but for the most part, they were simple, but decidedly painful shrapnel wounds. One of those with more serious wounds was lying on a stretcher awaiting her turn on a Merlin. Jasper knelt down beside the wounded officer.

"How are you doing, Captain?"

Captain McFadden grimaced with the throbbing of her wound. She looked down at the field dressings on her left thigh and additional dressings around her stomach.

"A couple of scratches – nothing I can't handle."

"Typical bloody Royal!" Jasper chuckled. "You hang in there, Captain."

The officer was mad at being wounded. She was supposed to be leading her men, not lying on a stretcher fighting back the pain. She was a Royal Marines Commando and as such, she had to be better than everybody else. Jasper knew that the young officer had nothing to prove. She had the respect of her men and they had all been upset knowing that she had been wounded. However, the injuries had been received in combat when the officer had been leading her men from the front. Even the most chauvinistic Royal Marine had respect for the young officer who was proving that just because she was 'the weaker sex' did not mean she could not keep up.

Jasper chuckled at the thought that the young officer reminded him of a young American woman over three thousand miles away to the east.

* * *

 ** _Early afternoon_**

 ** _RNAS YEOVILTON_**

The attack helicopters had all returned to the airfield to be serviced and disarmed.

Keira was battling mixed emotions and her mind was in turmoil. The flight had been completed in silence apart from important communications over the radio or with David. Trevor, Adrien, David, and Keira retreated to the Officers' Wardroom for a late lunch and some light discussion. Keira found that talking with the three men helped to bring her mind back to where it was supposed to be. She had a life and she had her sister. While they were eating, a junior officer appeared, and he handed David a note before vanishing. There were three sets of raised eyebrows as David pocketed the piece of paper and he was grinning.

"Well?" Keira wanted to know.

"They're moving Harper," David explained.

"Where?" Keira demanded. "When?"

"Harper will be airlifted off the _Bulwark_ and flown here, to Yeovilton. She's due to arrive in about two hours. Then Harper will be taken by road to London to where there is a secure unit which caters for 'at-risk' children. She will receive the best of care there, Keira. I've made arrangements for you to travel with Harper to London in the ambulance – only if you want to, of course," David replied.

"Thank you."

Keira was unable to say anything else.

..._...

The flight arrived right on schedule and Keira was there to meet the Merlin HC.4 as the transport helicopter landed with its precious cargo.

There were four stretcher cases and three walking wounded aboard. All but two stretcher cases headed for the base medical facilities on Royal Navy transport. The two civilian emergency ambulances were waiting, and Keira stiffened as she saw the stretchers removed from the helicopter and carried carefully down the ramp. The first bore her little sister, wrapped snuggly up in blankets and barely visible. The other stretcher bore another young girl, only older. Keira fought off the urge to pull her pistol and put a bullet into the red-haired girl's skull as Harper was transferred onto the trolley from the ambulance. Keira hesitated as she reached out and gently touched her sister's cheek – it was warm to the touch, but her eyes remained closed. Harper appeared to be sleeping peacefully which was a blessing. She was attached to three different drips and there were wires disappearing under the blankets which the ambulance crew were connecting up to monitors aboard the ambulance.

Within twenty minutes, they were heading east on the A303 towards London.

* * *

 ** _Castlemartin, Pembrokeshire, Wales_**

Everyone was very tired.

On their return from the airfield, everybody had grabbed a fast breakfast before falling asleep anywhere that was remotely comfortable. As Natasha checked in the girls on the way to her camp bed, she smiled at the youngsters, fast asleep and, for the most part, looking innocent. Even Cassie looked content as she slept a few feet away from her two daughters. Natasha was very pleased that everybody had come through with nothing worse than bruises and scratches. The fight had almost gone so very, very wrong. For five weeks, they had been pursued across the country. They had been hounded. They had been persecuted. They had been threatened. But it was finally over. They could go back to their lives and live in peace.

Natasha lay down on the camp bed next to the one which her brother occupied, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon_**

 ** _Saturday, October 29th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle, Scotland_**

Thirty-seven days.

Throughout that time, none of them thought that they would ever lay eyes on their home again. As Alexandra Perrin unlocked her front door, she smiled. The house was immaculate – not a speck of dust anywhere – it was obvious that somebody had been in, cleaning. With a loud yell, Kaitlin ran through the door.

"Home sweet home!" she exclaimed as she vanished up the stairs to her bedroom.

Cassie grinned at her mother as Naomi ran after the younger girl. Everything appeared to be back to normal – well, as normal as it ever got. Almost the instant the front door was closed, the phone rang, and Cassie picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Cassandra!"

"Daddy!"

"I hear you have all been having some fun in my absence," Commander Richard Perrin commented.

"Wait till I tell you what's been going on. . ."

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

"For the love of God, Olivia!" Jessica moaned.

"I miss him."

"You saw him two hours ago and your last text was just a minute ago," Jessica pointed out to her lovesick sister.

"I hate to admit it, but Jess has a point," Christopher added.

"You'll see him at school on Monday, Olivia," Lynn tried.

"None of you understand!" Olivia declared as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Back to normal, I suppose," Jasper commented with a chuckle.

* * *

 ** _Liberton, Edinburgh_**

"This is our new home, Dad?"

"Yes, Jeremy, it is. We're a stone's through from the centre of Edinburgh and Keira lives just up the road. It was good of them to offer us this place. We can finally get back to us being a family – just you and me . . . at least for the moment."

"It's amazing!" Jeremy exclaimed.

The house was pleasant and spacious. Somehow, he and his Dad had landed on their feet with the most amazing friends and one hell of a life to look forward to.

Jeremy Lai was a very happy boy.

* * *

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

It was much the same for Natasha and Cameron.

They were overjoyed to be back in their home and in familiar surroundings. It was an even better feeling to know that you weren't about to be attacked. The French contingent had come with them until they were to return to France on the Monday.

"Get yourselves settled in guys – we can go and get dinner out as we've nothing in," Cameron suggested.

"Cool!" Yvette replied.

"Thanks for coming to help us," Natasha said to Marinette.

"We help people, you and I; it's what we do," Marinette responded.

"So, you and Yvette look to be getting close."

"She's a wonderful girl."

"That she is."

"Adrien and I are going to adopt her before the end of the year. She needs a home and we love having her around."

"Good luck to both of you – a _Predator_ is a lot of work, but very rewarding work."

* * *

 ** _London_**

Three weeks she had been away from her home.

She had seen her Grandpa several times, but she had missed her brother. As such, she had almost flattened the boy on her return home. He had returned the hug and Electra was giggling by the time he had finished hugging her. Then, she stopped dead a man stepped out of the living room.

"Daddy!" Electra exclaimed as she burst into tears and ran towards her father.

Her father had still been in hospital when she had left to fight – now he was home and she jumped into his arms, sobbing violently.

"It's okay, sweetie; I'm here."

Electra had never been happier.

* * *

 ** _10 Downing Street_**

The cabinet meeting to address the situation following the fall of Sebastian Radford was heated, to say the least.

The topic of contention was what to do with the ministers, both in government and in opposition, who were part of Radford's scheme to dominate and turn the government of the United Kingdom. Some had been coerced – with money or blackmail. Some had willingly gone over. Most screamed their innocence, and some were saying nothing. It had had to be handled carefully as there was a dangerous air in the room. Many of those present wanted the death penalty – despite such a penalty no longer existing on the statute books.

"We could send them all to Cape Wraith to witness a weapon's demonstration and a missile could drift off course. . ."

"Thank you, Air Chief Marshal for that input," the Prime Minister responded dryly, although secretly, she agreed. "Can't we just put them all up against a wall and shoot them?"

"We don't do that sort of thing, anymore, ma'am."

The Prime Minister glared at the head of MI5.

"Well, who does?" she demanded of those present in the cabinet room.

"Officially, ma'am," Admiral Hunt replied. "Nobody does. Should it be allowed, I would keel-haul the traitorous bastards . . . excuse me, ma'am . . . however, under the circumstances, I think external forces may assist us."

"First Sea Lord, you are being very cryptic; however, I believe I understand what you are getting at. Plausible deniability, am I right?"

"Yes, Prime Minister."

"Complete the list and I will set the operation in motion. What shall we call it?"

There were murmurings before one voice spoke out.

"Operation Turncoat. Sounds ideal, ma'am."

There were approving nods from around the table.

"Thank you, Admiral."

"Of course, Prime Minister."

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital_**

 ** _The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Keira was beyond exhausted despite an hour's sleep in the ambulance.

All of her attentions were on her little sister. Harper had been whisked away within minutes of their arrival at the hospital. Keira was grilled for every fact concerning her sister: full name, age, medical history etc. That was slightly difficult as Keira new very little about her sister for a certain period of her life. So far, nobody had provided Keira with details on what was wrong with Harper. She was passed from pillar to post and then back to the damn pillar again. Eventually, she had been led up to the fifth floor and into a private room where Harper lay sleeping. Keira may have been tired, but she was still able to comprehend how poorly her sister was. The nine-year-old girl was connected up to four plastic tubes filled with various liquids – two into her left arm, another into her right, and a fourth into her right ankle. A catheter has been fitted along with a host of multi-coloured electrical wires and a thin plastic tube running from behind her ears and then under her nostrils. She was no longer swaddled in blankets but covered by a white sheet and a think blanket. Keira could see that Harper was otherwise naked beneath the bedding. She was also a lot cleaner than when Keira had last seen her. However, her sister's features were marred by copious plasters on her face along with a dressing on her left cheek. Her left arm and hand were bandaged from part way down the forearm, all the way to her fingers. Other than those visual cues, Keira had no idea what other horrors were hidden by the bedding.

A nurse had made up a sofa with bedding for Keira so that she could stay in the room with her sister. Keira thought that sleep might never come but she was so tired that she went out like a light.

..._...

It was dark when she thought she heard a noise and she was instantly awake.

"Good morning," a voice offered, and Keira saw a tall man in a doctor's coat standing over her sister. "May I continue, or do you wish to shoot me?"

Keira realised that she had automatically drawn her pistol and she was aiming it at the doctor. She quickly holstered the weapon as she grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, doc."

"I know that security is high – there are two Royals on patrol in the corridor."

"Service?"

"Active service – Lieutenant-Commander Blake Schneider, Royal Navy. I've been spending time attached to the children's ward here."

"Lieutenant Keira Sharp, Royal Navy. I'm temporarily assigned to somewhere classified. Harper is my little sister."

"I see – thought you were much to young to be her mother," Schneider responded with a twinkle in his eye. "I have been assigned to Harper's case; partly due to the sensitive nature of the case. I understand that she has been tortured and has been held for a number of weeks, yes?"

"Correct. She was only rescued yesterday."

"I inspected Harper when she came in yesterday and I've been collating her injuries and working out the best way forwards for her. I am assuming that you currently have no idea what your sister has been through?"

"I have no idea and part of me does not want to know . . . but I need to know."

"I'll come back later this morning and I'll take you through Harper's injuries from head to toe."

"Thank you, commander."

* * *

 ** _CALEDONIA_**

 ** _Southampton_**

Mary had been the last the leave the yacht.

She had Sarah had walked down the gangway onto the dock at Southampton in the late afternoon. They were replaced by several Royal Navy ratings who would take the yacht in for a refit. Mary could not help looking back at the yacht which had been her home. She had boarded the yacht for the first time just a month previously as a royal princess who thought she knew everything – only that notion was very quickly kicked out of her . . . literally. She had learnt to be part of a team. She had learnt respect for those with better skills than her own. She had learnt new skills and polished off her existing ones. She had helped bring _Vengeance_ out of the darkness and back into the light. She had even killed while defending her own father. So much had happened and while a lot had been bad, there was also a lot of good. She had made new friends – real friends; not like those who just wanted to cosy up with a royal princess. Her friends were the real deal and thought they tended to ignore her lineage, Mary did not care. Her new friends were irreplaceable and she owed them her life. In the past, she had sometimes hated it when people treated her as a normal girl – it had seemed so false – only her new friends made her feel welcome in the most genuine way possible. Their private lives could not have been any more different but that was what made the friendship so special.

"Will we see her again?" Mary asked.

"Oh, yes," Sarah responded. " _Caledonia_ has many operations ahead of her."

"What are they going to do to her?"

"Change the oil, empty the ash trays – the usual," Sarah chuckled. "When she re-emerges, she will be deadly. Right now, she has no teeth – that is going to change and she will have fangs."

Mary laughed. The yacht meant a lot to her, not just because of how her life had changed during her time aboard but because it had been Princess Mary herself who had named the vessel. The yacht would forever be a part of her and it had been the very first royal duty which she had ever performed. She could remember the words like it was yesterday.

'I name this vessel: _Caledonia_. May God bless her and all who sail in her.'

"Good luck, _Caledonia_ , and thank you."

* * *

Something felt different.

She was no longer cold. Her limbs ached, but not from lying on a thin mattress resting on bare concrete. She felt at ease for the first time in weeks. Her mind told her to relax and enjoy the peace and comfort. Only, her overactive _Predator_ instincts told her it was all a ploy and that she should resist it all. Every few minutes she would hear a voice calling her name: 'Harper. Harper.' But she would resist responding to what had to be yet another attempt to get at her and seek information on _Vengeance_.

She would fight, and she would continue to fight with every fibre of her being.

..._...

The scene in her mind changed as it always did, and it refocussed on the worst event her mind could muster.

Harper relieved the scene for what had to be the hundredth time. The screech of brakes as a car slithered to a halt. The rear door being yanked open and then the man beside her being pulled out and then Keira's face appearing. Happiness. Joy. Relief. It all flooded through her; each emotion better than the last. Harper reached out her hand and she actually touched her sister – that touch felt so good . . . the pain – somebody had seized her left arm and yanked it very hard. Harper saw the fiery red hair of her assailant for a brief moment as she was forced into the back of another car, her bare feet barely touching the tarmac. She was screaming. All the happiness gone, wiped out in a millisecond of horror. Gunshots – lots of them. So close, yet so far. The fear of knowing that she would never see her friends again welled up inside her and mixed with the knowledge that she would never see her sister again. The desperation of having touched her sister, having her so close. Keira was leaving her . . . she couldn't . . . she wouldn't . . . the anguish she felt was overwhelming.

"Keira! Keira! Don't leave me! _Please_ . . . _K-E-I-R-A_!"

..._...

Abruptly, the scene changed, and Harper was a good deal younger and dressed in a grey jogging top and bottoms with white trainers. She was in a class of similarly aged kids learning the basics of hand to hand fighting from an older girl dressed in black. That girl stepped forward and stopped before the unhappy looking girl.

"What's your name, little runt?"

"Har – Harper Brown, err Lucy."

"Step out here, Brown - you too, Ward."

The two young girls appeared very wary as they stepped out before their class and turned to face one another.

"Ward – hit Brown."

The other girl looked over at Brown and she smiled. The next thing Harper knew, she was flat on her back and her cheek was stinging viciously.

"Not bad, Ward – Brown, get with it and start protecting yourself or you'll never amount to anything."

Harper regained her feet to the sounds of laughter from her fellow phase 1 _Predators_. She was angry – she hated humiliation. She subconsciously rubbed the skin behind her right ear – it itched. Just the previous afternoon, she had been promoted from probationer to phase 1 Predator. She could still remember the session, if not what had occurred in the hours preceding it.

The pricking sensation had been very painful and before long it was very sore.

"Keep still!" the tattooist had demanded.

"I am!" Harper had retorted.

Finally, after what had seemed like hours, Harper had been released, and she stood up before looking in a mirror and pulling back her right ear. The redness matched with the throbbing pain, but the symbol of her success was there and Harper grinned – she well knew the alternative to receiving the dagger.

..._...

Then, she began to feel pain – real pain – and she fell to the mat.

"What's wrong, Brown?" Ward sneered.

Harper could see faces gathering around her, looking down more out of curiosity than from any desire to help. The faces began to swim and then they vanished, and two new faces appeared. One was familiar, the other was not.

"Harper!"

The voice was very familiar. Keira?

"Harper, for the love of God!"

"Quit with the shouting, Keira – I need to sleep."

"Harps?"

Harper's eyes flew open and she found herself staring into the eyes of. . .

"Keira!"


	46. Alive

**_Saturday, October 29th, 2016_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

The nine-year-old girl was in a lot of pain.

"Okay – let's dial up the sedative a bit," Dr Schneider suggested and a nurse made the relevant adjustments to the computer running the various drips.

It did not take long for Harper's tears to stop and her face to acquire a semi-vacant expression as she hovered between reality and the netherworld of drug-induced sleep. The doctor then walked up to the bed and he pulled back the quilt.

"Hey!" Harper exclaimed. "A little dignity for the naked girl, please!"

"Harper, shut up, there's a good girl," Keira suggested to her little sister.

Harper opened her mouth to respond but she then gave up and clamped her mouth shut, just glaring up at the doctor and her big sister. Yes, Harper was naked, and Keira was stunned by what she saw. If Harper's not-so-angelic face had been bad, her body was worse – much worse. The doctor began to point out injuries, beginning from Harper's head in a very clinical but humorous, manner.

"She has a thick skull – no damage as far as we can tell."

"Did you find a brain in there?" Keira asked in an attempt at some dark humour.

The doctor chuckled as he continued, "No brain damage as far as we can see, so she should be just as before."

"Oh, dear," Keira said sarcastically with a forced laugh ignoring Harper's annoyed expression which was bordering on indignation.

"We have several marks on her neck, front, and on both sides, where a knife has been used to slice her skin. There'll be more of that; as I said, Harper has been viciously tortured. There is limited scarring and the marks are not readily visible. These," the doctor pointed at Harper's chest area, "are cigarette burns and burns from what appears to be exposure to a naked flame."

"Oh, my God!" Keira exclaimed as she counted eleven separate circular marks which extended from Harper's collar bone down towards her stomach.

There were also three extended burn scars around the breast area. Keira looked into her sister's dark eyes. Harper looked very unhappy, but also very tired as the drugs began to take effect in her system.

"We have some more knife slices on her stomach and several on her thighs."

"Was she interfered with?" Keira asked, dreading the answer.

"I wasn't raped, sis," Harper pointed out, weakly.

"No sign of internal sexual trauma," the doctor confirmed, much to Keira's relief. "When we inserted the catheter, we did find evidence of a urinary infection and some redness but nothing to worry about. Her lower legs have received a lot of significant impacts causing intensive bruising, lacerations, and torn skin, but the bones are intact. As for the feet, all but one toe on her left foot are intact – we can fix the toe easily. The feet are quite heavily bruised, so walking will be painful at first but not impossible. Her right foot – well, it has a knife wound in it, however, the double-edged blade missed all the major parts and simply chipped two metatarsals. The wound will heal fully and she will regain full use of her feet in a few days. That brings me to her left arm."

Keira grimaced as she looked over at the one part of her sister's body which she had been avoiding. The young girl's left arm was bandaged from above the elbow, to just short of her wrist. Her wrist was in a fresh, white cast while her fingers were each splinted and the tips of each finger were wrapped in white gauze.

"Her wrist was broken – a clean fracture. Each finger was broken in at least two places. They were not splinted, and we had to rebreak them to correct the alignment – not to mention that three of her fingers have had the nail ripped off. It will be five to six months before her hand is fully back to rights, maybe two for her feet. Her lower arm and elbow were exposed to boiling water and then salt was rubbed into the burn. The salt assisted in the healing . . . but the pain would have been unbelievable. Honestly, I have never seen anything like it – the torture that this girl has been through. . ."

Harper had fallen asleep several minutes before so was unable to hear most of the diagnosis.

"I cannot even begin to contemplate what she went through."

"What information could a nine-year-old girl have had that somebody would do this to her? How could she even have lasted as long as she did? I've known grown soldiers suffer less trauma before they gave in."

The doctor was unnerved by Harper's condition and her obvious signs of torture.

"Harper is special, doctor. You have had your confidential briefing on who we are – she was protecting the livelihoods of her friends and me. Harper was willing to die before giving up any secrets. We have no idea if she broke, but from what we can tell, she did not break, despite what you see before you."

The doctor carefully covered up the sleeping girl to restore her dignity. His heart went out to the two sisters. They had both endured hell.

"The person who did this to Harper?"

"He burned," Keira responded coldly. "He had my Hellfire up his arse."

"Good to know."

* * *

 ** _Mid-2015_**

The scene faded into another.

"You're going the fuck down, Ward!"

"In your dreams!" Naomi Ward responded as she kicked out at Harper.

Whatever it was, the two girls did not get along and they were constantly at each other's throats. The instructors actively encouraged the 'banter', turning a blind eye to the cuts and the bruises – they saw it as 'character building'. Therefore, the two evenly-matched girls would lay into one another whenever possible, often resulting in heavy bruising and numerous cuts on their bodies. Just to make things worse, the bastard instructors opted to relocate the girl's sleeping accommodation. So, after the two girls had finished their sparring session, they had both showered and cleaned themselves up. Then, they both received a nasty shook as they returned to their respective dormitories to find that they had both been shifted into a third dormitory.

"Well, well, you must be the new bitches," a tall girl of maybe eleven-years-old commented as she glared down at the two newcomers. "I am Charlie and you will obey me, or I will snap you both in half. Your beds are over there – back corner . . . and no lesbian shit."

Harper scowled. "Isn't Charlie a boy's name?" she asked cheekily.

Whack!

Harper crashed to the floor of the dormitory with blood pouring from her nose. She quickly jumped back to her feet and punched 'Charlie' in the chest, shoving the older girl backwards.

"No more fighting."

Charlie turned to see another girl – this one maybe a year older with jet black hair – and she backed down, skulking off to her own bed, three down from the two which were now the home for Naomi and Harper. Harper grinned; there were always bigger fish in the sea – or just a bigger _Predator_. Ward was not amused by her new bed – but there was nothing that she could do about it and she knew it. Harper scowled, flicking her bedmate the finger.

"Stay away from me, Brown, or I kill you in your sleep."

"You're all talk, Ward."

* * *

 ** _Saturday, October 29th, 2016_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

"Did you honestly think I was dead?"

"We had no reason to doubt the bastard," Keira replied out of all honesty.

"Well, you should have done a better job of rescuing me, then," Harper growled angrily.

"That's unfair!" Keira retorted. "We did everything that we could."

"For fuck's sake, Keira, I was drugged – they injected me with some shit which made me pass out and it paralyzed my body as well as slowed my breathing. I was scared to death when I awoke as I could not move until it wore off. Did anybody even bother to check the bloody video?"

"Eric gave it a cursory look, but we were all in a bad place and we missed you so much – losing you . . . coming so close to you. . ."

"I know – it was hard . . . it really was," Harper relented.

"You've been through so much, Harps – I'm really proud of you. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Keira."

* * *

 ** _August 2016_**

The crash was spectacular – at least that was the considered opinion of several of the witnesses.

It was not often that you saw a large five-door hatchback weighing almost two tons flying through the air. The 2008 Ford Mondeo had clipped the rear end of a car transporter as the transporter had slammed on its brakes thanks to a small Hyundai which had cut up the six-axle, articulated lorry. The Mondeo's left front corner had lifted, rolling the car over and thrusting it upwards. The front end of the car had then crashed down, bending the entire engine compartment backwards towards the windscreen. Despite the deployment of the multiple airbags in an attempt to mitigate injury to the three occupants of the vehicle, the incredible damage to the vehicle was passed onto the three fragile human beings, crushing and tearing at the flesh and bone as the vehicle had crashed down onto its right side, barely recognisable as a vehicle. The wreckage was strewn all around and mercifully, of the three occupants, two had died on impact whilst the third, a ten-year-old girl in the front passenger seat of the Mondeo, had passed out.

To the police, paramedics, and firefighters who had attended the road traffic accident, it was one of the worst scenes they had attended.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, October 31st, 2016_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

As Harper was no longer comatose and she was safe, Keira had opted to stay in a nearby hotel where she could face her own emotions while allowing Harper her space.

Harper was feeling drowsy from the medication and also more than a little tired from her sister's visit. At the sound of a gentle knocking, she saw a tall girl put her head around the door to her room.

"Hello."

"Hello," Harper replied.

"I'm Diana."

"Harper."

Diana came in and she stood beside the bed – the girl was on crutches, Harper noticed as she fell back onto her pillows and then began to cry. Diana looked a little unnerved.

"Sorry," Harper offered. "I try not to show pain in front of my sister – I've been holding it in."

"Was that your sister?"

"Yes – Keira."

"I can sit with you, if you'd like?"

Harper simply shrugged noncommittedly.

"How old are you?" Diana asked, obviously eager to talk even if Harper was not.

"Nine."

"I just turned eleven. What happened to you? You look bad."

"Beyond my being abducted and tortured, I can't really say, sorry," Harper replied, tiring of the conversation very quickly.

"I'm in with my legs – they got hurt in a car crash . . . couple months back."

Harper looked downwards out of curiosity, and her eyes went wide as she noticed that the girl who rested on crutches had no feet and she was missing quite a bit more, too. Diana was an amputee – a double amputee.

"What legs?"

"I think I left them somewhere. . ."

Harper actually laughed, and she instantly hated herself for it.

"Sorry."

"Gallows humour _is_ allowed around here, Harper – the fifth floor is for reprobates like us."

"Miss Price!"

"The prison warden is back," Diana quipped as the ward sister put her head around the door and the woman glared disapprovingly at the eleven-year-old.

"What have I told you about disturbing the other children?" the woman in her early forties demanded.

Sister Bartholomew was the senior nurse on the floor and her word was law – even the doctors did not trifle with her.

"I have to agree, Diana," Doctor Schneider commented as he followed the woman into the room. "Harper needs her rest. Out!"

"I'll be back when the old people are gone," Diana said loudly enough for the 'old people' to hear as she crutched herself out of the room with a big grin on her face.

Harper smiled as her new friend vanished.

* * *

 ** _The next day_**

 ** _Monday, November 1st_**

 ** _Scotland_**

"Where have you been?"

"What were you doing?"

"What's with the bruising?"

Olivia Kensington received a lot of attention from her friends who had not seen her in many weeks. For the thirteen-year-old girl, it was difficult. She could not tell anybody anything at all – a fact which Jasper had hammered home to her, Jessica, and Christopher. She had almost betrayed _Vengeance_ once – never again. Instead, she just smiled sweetly and explained that she had been involved in a minor car accident while they had been away visiting a sick relative. It was a good enough story as any and she enjoyed the attention that she was receiving from her friends. Jessica, however, took great joy in pointing out one aspect of their time away.

"Did Olivia tell you about the semen in her pubes?" the eleven-year-old girl chuckled as she walked past her sister.

Olivia's mouth dropped open and her face turned bright red as her friends demanded to know more.

..._...

As for Naomi and Kaitlin, life was returning to boring normality.

Kaitlin had complained bitterly as Cassie had ensured that the youngster was dressed correctly and that her hair was perfect. Kaitlin hated to be called 'sweet' and 'cute', but she allowed Cassie to be 'Mum' and sort out her two girls. Naomi had no problems with the attention, she was enjoying being 'normal' again.

"Okay, Kaitlin," Cassie lectured. "Where are your fists going to be, today?"

Kaitlin rolled her eyes before responding.

"By my sides."

"Are you going to hit anybody?"

"No."

"Are you going to cause anybody pain?"

"If they . . . no."

"Are you going to be a normal-ish eight-year-old?"

"Never in a month of Sundays!" Naomi exclaimed.

"What did I say about your fists, Kaitlin?"

The fiery youngster returned her fists back to her sides and she just glared up at the smirking Naomi. Then Cassie turned towards the older girl.

"Now, Naomi, you are not going to annoy Kaitlin, are you?"

"No, Mum."

"Would you care to elaborate on that," Cassie pushed.

"I promise not to annoy Kaitlin," Naomi growled, annoyed that her favourite past time was banned.

Kaitlin just grinned in response to Naomi being put in her place.

..._...

For Craig, things were a lot more difficult.

He had never felt for a person what he felt for Olivia. They were in different classes but that did not prevent them from meeting up at lunchtime for some idle gossip. It did not take very long for Olivia's friends to figure out whose semen had been involved and they giggled their way through lunch while Craig and Olivia did their utmost to ignore them. Their day passed peacefully until it was time to head home. David was standing with Lynn and both were chuckling as they two teenagers approached.

"What's so funny?" Olivia demanded.

"Dad," Craig warned. "If you are about to humiliate me in front of all my friends. . ."

"Ewww . . . are they together again?" Jessica grumbled as she stalked past.

"People keep asking me about Olivia and her pubes – ugh!" Christopher commented as he strode past making a beeline for the car.

"I'll text you," Craig offered as he gave Olivia a peck on the cheek.

Olivia blushed as Jessica called out, "Disgusting!"

* * *

 ** _The following morning_**

 ** _Tuesday, November 2nd_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

"Will you _please_ stop treating me like a child!"

"Harps, you need help."

"I can feed myself."

"You rush it and then you make yourself sick – you've barely eaten for weeks and you need to take it slowly."

Before Harper could make a suitable retort, a familiar but very unexpected voice cut in.

"Just do what you are told, Harps – take it from me; you need all the help you can get."

Harper did a doubletake before her face exploded into an enormous fangirl grin.

"Stephanie!"

"Just thought we'd pop in to say hello," an American voice explained.

"Mindy!" Keira exclaimed as she jumped to her feet. "Dave, hello!"

"Abby's gone directly to Scotland to screw Eric – no surprise there. She's delivering some new tech for Eric to replace the destroyed stuff."

"What the fuck happened to your hair?" Harper exclaimed.

"A gift from a _Marauder_ ," Stephanie replied before she turned to Keira. "May I speak with Harper alone?" Stephanie asked Keira pointedly.

Keira hesitated, and Harper shook her head; a look of fear crossing her face.

..._...

Once the room was empty and the door had been closed, Stephanie turned on Harper.

"Stop it!" Stephanie ordered.

"What?"

"The hard girl thing. Believe me, it doesn't make a difference. Don't hold it in. Don't be afraid to cry; you are only human and right now, you are not a _Predator_. Just be a young girl for a while – you'll enjoy it; I did. Let Keira look after you. You both need the time together. I felt angry when Mindy and Dave did everything for me, but they did it out of love. Right now, I look back and I am glad that I showed my true feelings of how I felt. It was embarrassing at times, but we're beyond that, right?"

"Right," Harper replied before she dissolved into tears.

Without hesitation Stephanie walked around the bed and she took hold of Harper's right hand. Stephanie felt the strong grip of Harper's uninjured hand.

"Let them know how you feel. Don't hold it in – it isn't worth it. Just being able to touch somebody who loves and cares about you. Feeling their hand on yours . . . being able to squeeze and feeling a squeeze back. Does it feel better?"

Harper nodded as she continued to squeeze Stephanie's hand.

"She does that a lot, you know."

Stephanie peered up at the door and she saw a tall girl of maybe eleven-years-old push her way in through the door – she was seated in a wheelchair. Harper wiped her eyes.

"That's Diana – she left her legs on a motorway along with quite a few of her brain cells," she grinned.

"Hi, Diana – I'm Stephanie, a friend of Harper."

"Hello," Diana said, offering her right hand to Stephanie who shook it. "You telling her to stop being an idiot?"

"Something like that," Stephanie conceded.

"I tried that – only she's stubborn."

"She is that," Stephanie laughed.

The three girls chatted for a short while before Keira, Dave, and Mindy returned.

"I'll be right back," Stephanie commented.

* * *

 ** _Across the corridor and two doors down_**

For the young teen, life had taken a nasty turn.

It had been four days since the violent death of her father. She knew he was dead and she was vaguely aware of the details, but she was struggling with so much. Not only had she lost her father, she had also been scarred for life by one of those _Predator_ vigilantes. The past few days had been full of humiliation and pain. The Royal Marines had been very rough with her, despite her injury. She had been flown aboard a Royal Navy ship, barely conscious, her veins teaming with morphine-sulphate. The next day or so had passed in a blur before she vaguely remembered another helicopter ride and then a trip in an ambulance. She had finally awoken, just the day before, her drug-fogged brain thinking it had all been a dream – at least until a nurse had changed the bandage on her right wrist.

She had screamed as the realisation that she had lost her entire right hand and that it had not all just been some hideous dream. The thirteen-year-old girl had screamed and screamed, so much that she had had to be sedated. Then, just that morning, she had begun to tolerate the bandage-wrapped stump. She hated the very sight of it, but as she lay there in the hospital bed, wearing nothing but a hospital gown, she just cried and cried. However, she was interrupted by her door opening. With a start, she saw a large man peering in and then a skinny girl with short hair stepped in and the door was closed securely. Scarlett Radford may have been in an alien place, and all alone in the world, but she recognised death when it came.

The girl had the same dark eyes as Harper Sharp.

..._...

"Hello, Scarlett."

"You're like her," Scarlett replied carefully. "You're a _Predator_ and you've come to kill me."

Stephanie took a deep breath as she approached the bed.

"Yes, Scarlett, you are correct. Yes, I am a _Predator_. I spend my time looking after those who survive. It appears that one of my kin has already wrought vengeance on you for what you did to Harper. Now, my first idea was to kill you."

Stephanie paused as she placed a very sharp, six-inch knife down on the bed beside Scarlett's right leg. Beside that, Stephanie placed three items: a pistol, a magazine, and a suppressor. Scarlett's eyes went wide, and she began to hyperventilate. Stephanie casually attached the stubby suppressor onto the muzzle of the Glock 26 Gen4 pistol. Then came the ten-round magazine which Stephanie inserted into the butt of the pistol.

"Don't even think of screaming, bitch. That man out there is a Royal Marine and he was there at what we like to call the Radford Incursion . . . must sound good to have an attack named after your father . . . anyway, where was I. Yes, that Royal Marine knows what you did to Harper – or what you allowed to be done to Harper."

Stephanie pressed the cold muzzle of the nine-millimetre pistol against the shaking girl's chest.

"Nobody would hear the report of the gun firing – you'd be very dead. Maybe I should return the favour; I saw Harper's wounds and I have a very sharp blade."

"I tried to help her. My father forced me . . . please believe me. I looked after her and fed her . . . I'm sorry . . . so very sorry."

Stephanie saw through the tears and her eyes bored into those of Scarlett Radford.

"I'm about second chances," Stephanie said as the gun and knife rapidly vanished from sight. "You slip up, just the once, and I will make sure that you suffer. My name is Walker, Stephanie Walker, and I destroyed _Urban Predator_. I continue to destroy anyone who intends to hurt a _Predator_. Do you want me as a friend or an enemy, Scarlett Radford?"

It was almost a full minute before Scarlett could respond.

"Friend?"

"I accept."

..._...

Stephanie returned to Harper's room after giving the Royal a nod.

"What's up, Steph?" Keira asked as she noticed the ten-year-old looking worried.

"Could I come stay with you, tonight, Keira . . . please?"

"Don't you want to stay with Dave and Mindy?"

"God, no!"

"Am I missing something?" Keira asked as she looked up at the grinning Mindy.

"It's their fucking anniversary – and that is exactly what they will be doing from dusk till dawn: fucking!"

Keira laughed out loud.

"Okay – we can have a girl's night in."

Stephanie grinned enormously, relieved that she would not have to spend the night trying to ignore the goings on in the next room.

..._...

Keira walked Dave and Mindy out, leaving Stephanie to chat with Harper, Diana having vanished back to her own room as Sister Bartholomew came on her rounds.

"She's strong, Keira," Mindy said. "She's been through a lot in her short life, but she has you, and you are strong. Give her some space – that's difficult, I know. I went a little over the top when Steph was in the hospital and I'm sure that she hated my attention at times. However, I think Steph and I are a lot closer now than before."

"She's so angry with me. She blames me for believing she was dead."

"That was very difficult," Mindy admitted. "Not knowing is horrible – I've been there with Anne-Marie _and_ Stephanie. Just be there for Harper no matter her demands or threats. She doesn't know it, but she really needs you – her friends, too. Once the physical scars are healed, you need to get to work on the psychological scars deep inside. Stephanie had nightmares for weeks and she still does. We're all here to help, Keira, you are not alone."

" _Vengeance_ has been through a lot," Dave said. "You all need time to come to terms with what you all went through. You were hunted and hounded across the country but you all survived – all of you. Harper went missing for a short while and you all did everything you could to get her back. Radford was ruthless, and he is only one member of the _Scorpio_ organisation which has its tentacles all over the world. We are aware of the UK cell which still exists. We have seen the appearance of the French cell and the US cell. This is a major threat to security for both Europe and the United States. This is the beginning of a world-wide problem and between our three organisations: _Fusion_ , _Vengeance_ , and _Honneur_ , we can prevail."

"We do have a rocky road ahead," Keira agreed. "Thank you, Mindy. I owe you a lot. Thanks to you and Stephanie, I got my Harper back the first time after I thought she was gone for good. I'm still struggling with losing her again. I felt like I had betrayed her by not keeping her safe. But then I remember what she is and that she is perfectly capable of looking after herself. We need each other, I know that."

"Stay firm, Keira – it will pass," Mindy said as she gave her friend a hug.

"You two have fun tonight," Keira grinned, and Mindy fought back the blush which spread across her cheeks.

"Oh, we will," Dave chuckled.

* * *

 _This storyline continues in_ **Chapter 354: London Anniversary** _of_ **Forsaken** _as well as in_ **Chapter 47: The Vigilante** of **Vengeance.**


	47. Moving On

**Author's Note:** _This chapter follows on from_ **Chapter 354: London Anniversary** _of my other story:_ **Forsaken** _._

* * *

 ** _The following morning_**

 ** _Thursday, November 3rd_**

 ** _London, England_**

The look on Stephanie's face as they all met up in Lambeth Palace Gardens that morning was priceless.

Keira could see the extra spring in Mindy's step and the redness of her cheeks. She could also see the happiness and satisfaction in Dave's expression. Keira had noticed that Stephanie did not approve of her parents' sex life. Like most youngsters, though, Stephanie thought that parents were not allowed intimate relations.

"It's disgusting, that's what it is," Stephanie announced as she looked Dave and Mindy up and down from head to toe.

"Good morning to you, my snapping viper," Dave chuckled.

"Happy Birthday, Mindy," Keira offered.

"Yeah, Happy Birthday, Mum," Stephanie added as she hugged Mindy and then Dave.

"You look slightly worn out," Keira commented.

"Three things have penetrated my body, but while bullets and knives have never put me down. . ."

"Do _not_ finish that sentence if you value your life!" Stephanie directed as she glared up at the smirking Mindy.

Keira laughed – she knew Mindy was doing it on purpose, just to annoy Stephanie.

"Thanks for looking after her – any problems?" Mindy asked.

"Perfect little angel," Keira replied. "Bit out of character for a _Predator_."

"Stephanie's mellowing in her senior years," Dave chuckled as his ten-year-old daughter held his left hand with her right.

"I'm off to go see Harper. You three enjoy your day – and thanks."

"Stay firm, Keira," Mindy said as she gave her friend a hug.

"You have fun?" Dave asked Stephanie.

"It was good – we got Chinese and some popcorn, then we watched a couple of movies. Where we off to?"

"To see another crazy _Predator_ ," Dave advised.

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Harper awoke in a surprisingly good mood that morning.

She followed instructions and she was eating her breakfast, slowly. She forced herself to take her time - she had no desire to get on Stephanie's bad side. During her captivity, she had not eaten more than one meal a day. Even then, her torture had often resulted in her puking up anything she had eaten. She had become weaker and weaker. At one stage, she had to be forced to eat as she hardly had the energy remaining to move. There had been a constant supply of water, so dehydration had not been an issue. Her weak state had, however, resulted in her being unable to reach the bucket in her cell. She had slept in her own urine on many a night – it kept her warm for the most part. Though she blamed Radford and everything to do with Radford, she always kept coming back to that girl. Though she had been nasty, she had also been kind. Harper could vaguely remember glimpses of somebody forcing her to eat and drink. She was certain that it had been that Scarlett girl. Her thoughts were interrupted by her friend, Diana.

"You look a lot better," she commented as she wheeled herself in – her crutches had been confiscated to keep her off them.

"I feel a little better."

"There's another girl in here," Diana commented while Harper finished off her porridge. "A teenager – she lost her right hand at the wrist. She came in about the same time as you. Doesn't talk much – bit of a grumpy bitch, if you ask me. Mind you, losing a limb _is_ hard to get used to . . ."

Harper paid little attention to what Diana was saying – the girl tended to ramble a bit. But then something caught her attention.

". . . Maybe it's just the red hair – I think _all_ people with red hair are just angry people . . ."

"Did you say _red_ hair?" Harper interrupted.

"Yeah – her name's Scarlett, I think."

So, Scarlett Radford was alive. But before Harper could consider that, Keira walked in.

"Morning, Harper. Morning, Diana."

"Hi, Keira," Diana offered cheerfully.

"We need to talk," Harper said coldly.

Keira rolled her eyes as she used her thumb to indicate to Diana it was time to leave.

* * *

 ** _Across the corridor and two doors down_**

"What do you want?"

"Just come to say, 'good morning', is all."

"Good morning, Diana – bye!"

"Why are you such a nasty person?"

"Because that is what I am."

"You look like a normal girl to me."

"I have no right hand."

"I have no legs, but you don't hear me bitching about life."

"Look, I don't need a friend; I'm okay as I am, Diana."

"You're like that damn girl down the corridor – you two have a lot in common, you know."

"Who might that be, then?"

* * *

 ** _Back across the corridor and two doors up_**

"Why the bloody hell did you not tell me that she was here?"

Keira did not bother asking who it was that Harper was all het up about.

"You had enough to worry about, Harps."

"Will you stop making decisions for me – I don't need help."

"That's enough, Harper!" Keira replied. "I have had enough of you trying to be so damn high and mighty. Stop hiding behind your past life and look forward to your new life. I'm sorry that I thought you were dead. I had already lost you once, back when Mum and Dad died. Then I thought that I had lost you again. I had betrayed you."

"You gave up on me."

"No, Harper, I did not give up on you. However, I had a job to do, and mourning you had to wait until Radford was destroyed. Finding you was the happiest day of my life – for the second time. Now, you can be an obnoxious bitch all you want, but I will make decisions for you if I deem it correct. I am the adult here, Harper, and you are the nine-year-old child. If you don't like that, then tough fucking shit! Last night, Stephanie told me about a phrase that Mindy used on her: 'whatever it takes'. I intend to do 'whatever it takes' for you to get better and to get you home. You want to see Scarlett Radford, do you?"

Harper was a little surprised by her sister's outburst. Harper had always been able to get away with just about anything where her big sister was concerned but Harper figured that she had finally pushed things a little too far. Stephanie was right; Harper had to give in and swallow her pride.

"I don't know."

* * *

 ** _HM Treasury  
Whitehall_**

Dave, Mindy, and Stephanie were escorted inside the impressive building and across The Drum – the circular centre of the building – and then inside and up numerous flights of stone stairs until they were directed through a polished wooden door on the third floor.

The room beyond the door was very smart with dark wood panelling on the walls and a deep red carpet on the floor. They sat down in comfortable chairs while they were each served refreshments; coffee for Dave and Mindy while Stephanie settled for a tea. The lady who had escorted them upstairs departed and the door was closed behind her. They did not have long to wait as the door soon re-opened and Stephanie had barely stood up before she was almost flattened as the ten-year-old Electra Haig cannoned into her.

"Stephanie!" Electra exclaimed as she hugged her mentor. "So good to see you – shame about your hair; looks really weird."

"Gee, thanks, 'lectra!"

Stephanie peeled the girl off her and then watched with narrowed eyes as Electra walked around her.

"The hair isn't _that_ bad, I suppose – just unexpected. What's this?"

Electra looked closely at Stephanie's chest for a moment before she walked behind her mentor and smirked. She then reached out and before Stephanie could react, Electra had dug two fingers into Stephanie's back and seized her horizontal bra strap and pulled it before allowing it to snap back.

"Yeoww!" Stephanie exclaimed. "Don't do that!"

"So, they finally made you wear a bra – cool."

"Oh, 'lectra, I should slap you, but you'd probably enjoy it."

"This must be Stephanie," a new voice interrupted.

Stephanie turned to find herself facing a tall girl of perhaps thirteen with long brown hair tied up in a single plait. Behind the girl was a young woman in a smart trouser suit. The woman's eyes told Stephanie that she had been around the block, so to speak.

"Hi, Mindy, Dave."

"Hello, Electra," Dave said.

"Hi, 'lectra," Mindy said with a smile.

"May I introduce: Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of. . ."

"Can it, Electra!" the tall girl said with a smirk. "Stephanie, please me call me Mary – any friend of this nutcase is a friend of mine. This is Ginny Turner, my Personal Protection Officer."

"Hello, Your Royal Highness," Dave offered with a nod of his head.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Royal Highness," Mindy said with a similar nod.

"Mary," Stephanie added with a passable curtsy.

"Please, all of you, my time spent with _Vengeance_ has taught me humility – especially at the hands of this girl – call me Mary, in private at least."

"I understand you have been learning the ropes," Mindy said.

"Electra has taught me a thing or two."

Electra grinned, and she looked up at Mindy who nodded.

"Belle, please meet Hit Girl and Kick-Ass . . . and Psyche."

Mary's jaw dropped, and she said nothing for a moment before a giggle escaped.

"You are the famous Hit Girl?"

"Please, don't polish her ego – it's bad enough," Stephanie groaned.

"Yours isn't exactly far behind," Electra pointed out.

"I cannot believe that I am in the same room as Hit Girl."

"I have to admit, I've never met Royalty before," Mindy commented.

Dave had to laugh as Mindy too appeared a little star-struck. Ginny chuckled – it was rare that her charge was ever speechless. But Mary had had many situations recently which had gone against her Royal lineage and she had received many shocks to her system as she was punched, thrown, pushed, shoved, humiliated, sworn at, and suffered a host of other indignities. The girl was resilient, and she had learned a lot. However, she had also been wounded and she had been forced to kill to protect her father.

"Okay – this is uncomfortable," Stephanie pointed out. "Mum – sit down. Electra, please guide Mary to a chair."

..._...

Once everybody was seated, Stephanie turned to Electra.

"How're your wounds?" Stephanie asked with obvious concern in her tone.

"Just some more scars to join the rest, I suppose."

"Don't be so modest, Electra," Mary said. "You saved my life."

"That's what I was trained to do," Electra replied meekly.

"Who trained you?" Ginny asked.

Electra looked over at Stephanie whose shoulder's slumped.

"She did," Electra said.

"I trained Electra to be something special. I trained her in my image, but I gave her a conscience so that she could see right from wrong," Stephanie explained.

"So, we have you to thank for Mary's life. If it was not for Electra, Mary might be dead. As an extension of that, no Mary might have meant no support for _Vengeance_ . . . and maybe worse," Ginny said.

"Please, don't polish her ego – it's bad enough," Mindy groaned.

"Just catching up with you, Mum," Stephanie grinned but then she turned serious. "I'm very pleased that Electra has been able to put her training to good use. She's an amazing girl and she has been through a lot. Some of the bad stuff was my fault – as are the scars on her body – but she is one of the bravest people I know."

"She's my best friend," Mary commented. "She's also coming back to school with me as my unofficial protection, along with long-suffering Ginny."

"Well done, 'lectra," Mindy offered. "Royal protection duty."

"Thank you, Mindy," Electra commented, blushing slightly.

"Err, 'lectra?"

"Yeeesss," Electra replied in a leading tone having seen Stephanie's eyes drift downwards.

"Since when did you wear a skirt and tights?" Stephanie asked.

"I used to when I was a little girl," Electra replied. "There wasn't much call for skirts and tights when I was a _Yellow_ or a _Predator_."

Electra stood up and she discarded the long coat she had been wearing to reveal a very smart school uniform. The ten-year-old wore a white long sleeve blouse with a smart blue tie bearing the school crest and a navy-blue blazer over a blue kilt with thick navy-blue tights. Mary removed her own coat to reveal an identical uniform and they both curtsied sweetly.

"I wanted Mindy to see my new uniform . . . you too, Steph," Electra explained.

"You look amazing, 'lectra," Mindy commented.

"You both do," Dave added.

Stephanie grinned. "You look really good, 'lectra."

Electra blushed a deep pink and she smiled happily.

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Harper awoke to the sound of arguing.

"What _is_ going on?" the girl moaned as she tried to focus on the three people at the foot of her bed. "Steph?"

"Hi, Harper!"

"Electra . . . Mary!"

"We thought we'd pop in to see you."

Harper was grinning as she tried to sit up. Mary and Keira moved to help Harper into a raised position. Once Harper was comfortable, Keira passed her sister a glass of water with a straw for her to sip through. After Harper had quenched her thirst, she smiled at her friends. They were the first she had seen since she had been captured.

"Your Royal Highness."

"Harper, please."

"Okay – Princess."

Mary raised an eyebrow and Harper grinned.

"Good to see you, Mary."

"That's better – time I taught _you_ a thing or two."

Harper grinned.

"No hard feelings?"

"You kept me alive, Harper."

"Thanks to your training, Harper," Ginny stated. "Mary shot and killed a man intent on murdering us all. She is a very brave young lady."

Mary grinned, and her face glowed very red.

"At least she's good for something," Harper laughed, and Mary scowled.

"Can I see your scars?" Electra asked Harper and Stephanie rolled her eyes at Electra's brazen manner.

"I've seen yours, so why not?" Harper responded.

Electra, eased back the bedsheet and she froze. Her expression said it all as her eyes followed the white dressings and took in the cigarette burns. Mary peered in as well and she was shocked as she saw the wounds continuing down Harper's stomach and beyond her waist to her thighs and onto her legs.

"Your scars are going to be way worse than mine," Electra commented as she pulled the bedsheet back into place.

"May I ask a question, please?"

Everybody turned to look at Mindy.

"It's just struck me like a 45-calibre full-metal-jacket bullet. Stephanie and Electra curtsied like they had been trained – explain?"

Stephanie simply shrugged.

"We are assassins," she explained. "Part of basic Phase 1 training – infiltration. We were all taught how to blend in, and for girls that included learning manners and how to behave in a cultured environment. We all learnt how to curtsy and behave like perfect little girls and young ladies."

Dave rolled his eyes and he chuckled. Mindy scowled.

"So," Mindy began. "All this time, we've had to put up with obnoxious, nasty, disagreeable . . . help me, Keira."

"Pesky, objectionable, loathsome, annoying. . ."

"Hey!" Electra cut in.

". . . little shits!" Mindy finished. "All this time, you could have behaved like polite young girls and spared us all the unpleasant behaviour."

"You can curtsey?" Keira asked Harper, who nodded with a big smile. "She's nodding – I'm going to bloody kill her for real this time. I've had to put up with so much fucking shit since she came back. I put it off to her experiences as a _Predator_ , but now, I find out that she could have behaved like a perfect little lady and spared me so much bloody grief."

Harper looked unhappy for a moment, but she shrugged, just as Stephanie had done. Then she looked at Mindy and her sister as she spoke.

"We are _Predators_."

..._...

An hour or so later, Dave, Mindy, and Stephanie said their goodbyes – which was not easy for Electra and Stephanie – and they made for the City Airport where a jet was awaiting them.

Once they were aboard, the jet took off and turned north for Scotland.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
_** **Edinburgh, Scotland**

"Shouldn't . . . we be getting . . . this kit . . . installed?"

"Yes . . . we . . . should."

Eric and Abby were lying beneath a computer console in the basement Control Room. Partially installed computer equipment and circuit boards surrounded them. Somehow, a forty-minute job had turned into one lasting almost two hours, although neither knew why. Maybe it was all the kissing and fondling. Maybe it was the sex underneath the master control console . . . or maybe the sex on top of the new state-of-the-art smart operations table . . . or even the sex in the new server room. Whichever, not a lot of time had actually gone into installing computer equipment.

"You two finished?" a voice called out.

There was a scuffling and a loud bang followed by an exclamation as somebody cracked their head. Then, two dishevelled geeks appeared. Mindy just rolled her eyes at her own geek. Natasha looked at her geek and grinned.

"The computers or . . ." Eric commented with a grin.

"Honestly, Abby," Mindy commented. "Can't you two keep your hands off each other for a moment?"

"You and Dave didn't spend the other night fucking into the wee hours, then?" Abby replied.

Mindy just grinned.

"I may be out of touch, but I'm not sure this is an essential part of a computer network," Stephanie pointed out as she held up Abby's bra.

"Must have fallen off," Abby commented as she and Eric vanished back under the master control console.

Mindy heard Abby giggling, so she just turned to walk out of the room.

..._...

Dave, Mindy, and Stephanie sat comfortably in the drawing room with Cameron and Natasha.

They were discussing _Fusion_ and _Vengeance_ when they were joined by Cassie, Adrien, and Marinette. After the introductions and some further talking, Mindy changed the subject.

"We've been taken for mugs," Mindy stated simply as she looked at Cassie. "Ask your two if they can curtsy."

"Nah – they're too uncouth for something as elegant as a curtsy," Cassie replied while Stephanie just rolled her eyes.

"Stephanie?" Dave prompted.

Reluctantly, Stephanie stood up and she performed a perfect curtsy for Cassie, all while grinning broadly.

"Little bitches," Cassie muttered as she raised two fingers to her mouth and she whistled shrilly.

Within a minute, there was the sound of running feet and three hot and sweaty girls appeared, all of whom were very dirty.

"You called," Naomi offered in greeting, then she stopped. "Stephanie!"

Stephanie was hugged by all three girls before she shook them off and all three were smiling happily now their friend was back amongst them.

"I understand that you three are able to behave like civilised young ladies and curtsy," Cassie stated.

"Yeah," Kaitlin said in reply. "What of it?"

"Let's see it," Cassie pushed.

The three girls each performed a perfect curtsy and there were some very sour expressions on the faces of Cassie and Marinette.

"So," Cassie began. "You three are able to behave like little ladies and not just like uncouth barbarians. New rule – one day, each week, you spend twenty-four hours as perfect little girls . . . or no pocket money."

"That's blackmail," Naomi pointed out.

"Yes, it is," Cassie grinned.

"It's extortion," Kaitlin added.

"Yes, it is," Cassie confirmed.

"Hard luck!" Yvette grinned.

"La même chose s'applique à vous, jeune fille," Marinette pointed out and Yvette grimaced, muttering in French for a few moments.

Marinette raised an eyebrow at the crude comments which did not require translation for those who did not speak French.

"Okay, moving on from _Predator_ inadequacies," Cassie commented but then she paused. "Kaitlin, stop pouting. I love you for who and what you are. Yes, you and Naomi have some rough edges and a few habits which I hate. However, I love you both very much and I want you both to remain as you are – with maybe a few changes along the way."

Kaitlin grinned as did Naomi.

"Nous, aussi," Marinette said to Yvette, producing a smile on the young girl.

"Who dobbed us in," Naomi asked.

"Err, well, Electra, I suppose – plus me," Stephanie admitted. "Not her fault."

"Mary?" Kaitlin asked.

"Yeah," Stephanie confirmed.

"Okay, you three, go back to whatever depraved activity you were taking part in and take Stephanie with you . . . what _were_ you doing?"

"Building a trap for the boys," Naomi explained. "It . . ."

Cassie grimaced and raised her right hand.

"I don't want to know," Cassie said before the three giggling girls grabbed Stephanie and they all vanished outside.

Mindy laughed.

"What?" Cassie asked.

"Now I can see what Marcus put up with all those years. That was his favourite phrase whenever he caught me doing something that wasn't 'normal' or was 'Hit Girl' type stuff. If those girls are anything to go by – he really suffered!"

..._...

It was not all that long until it was time for the American contingent to return from whence they had come.

Kaitlin hugged Stephanie really tightly, as did Naomi. Then it was Yvette's turn. Her hug squished Stephanie as she hugged her friend. Stephanie meant a lot to Yvette and the feeling was mutual.

"Please stay out of trouble, Stephanie," Yvette said.

"I'm different, now," Stephanie replied.

"Yeah – bullshit!"

Stephanie grinned.

* * *

 ** _Two days later_**

 ** _Saturday, November 5th_**

 ** _London_**

They had all travelled down by train the previous evening and slept at the Safehouse.

The kids had quickly recognised that the adults were in no mood for bad behaviour. On their arrival at the Safehouse, they had all been ordered to bed with no messing about. In fact, Kaitlin had been shouted at for pushing her luck, so the young girl had sulked herself to sleep. However, by that morning, tempers had eased, and the adults appeared to be in a much better mood. The large group walked as it was a pleasant if cool, day. Public transport was out as there was a high chance of the more rebellious kids being evicted from the tube. For the adults: Natasha, Cameron, Cassie, Trevor, Adrien, and Marinette, it was like herding cats as they strolled through Green Park and then St James' Park. For the kids: Craig, Olivia, Naomi, Kaitlin, Jeremy, Yvette, Christopher, and Jessica, it was a chance to run riot and cause mayhem. Some may have expected the older Olivia to show some restraint but no, she was descending into the role of a pseudo- _Predator_ , not that her boyfriend, Craig, minded one bit.

Just to add insult to injury, the boys had decided to gang up on the girls and they were causing a lot of screaming despite being outnumbered two to one. The girls, of course, enjoyed the rowdy behaviour and they loved to be chased and manhandled. Marinette commented that maybe visiting the hospital was a good idea as Harper may be receiving some company very soon. Cassie groaned at the thought, but they were out of control – not surprisingly – and Kaitlin was running around like a wild animal, complete with snarling.

"Maybe we can just pretend they aren't ours and run away?" Cameron commented.

"Not a bad idea," Cassie thought as she watched Craig pickup Kaitlin by her upper arms and then spin her around and around before releasing her to fly through the air and crash down onto the damp grass.

Kaitlin was up again, giggling her little head off – her clothes were muddy and damp but the eight-year-old did not care and she was having the time of her life. The same applied to her friends – even the older ones who should have known better – but there had not been much time over the past two months to have some fun and not have to worry about anything. To a child, they were ecstatic about seeing their friend again. They had all thought her dead but finding out that she was alive . . . it was a struggle to cope with it as some of them had kind of made peace with the fact that Harper was dead.

For the adults, it was a minor relief to see the hospital looming above them.

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

There was something going on, she was sure of it.

The problem with hospitals was that they were boring, and for an active youngster unused to being cooped up for weeks on end, her brain began to develop its own methods of stimulation. Yes, she had plenty of magazines and books which the hospital had supplied but even they got boring after a while. However, all the dull routine had changed the moment that two girls had arrived just five days earlier. Harper was a strange one and somehow there was a link between her and that other girl, Scarlett. Diana's mind was piecing together a ginormous jigsaw puzzle in her head. Harper was the centre piece and Scarlett was one of those odd-shaped pieces which hovered off to one side for the moment but with no direct connection to Harper. Then, had come that other girl, Stephanie; she was a Brit, but her parents were most definitely Americans. Stephanie was nice enough but she had the same eyes as Harper – those eyes scared Diana. A lot had changed on that Monday morning when Harper and Scarlett had arrived on the fifth floor and Diana had no idea how it might affect her.

The ward was a secure one with links to the military, and various kids had come and gone over the preceding weeks, many with military parents. As such, the ward had its own security, however, on the Monday morning a pair of gorillas in suits had appeared and they had rotated every eight hours with three different pairs appearing over a twenty-four-hour period. They were nice enough and they treated everybody well – except for a noticeable coldness towards Scarlett – and they were obviously guarding Harper and Scarlett. Then, out of the blue had come a visit from Royalty. Diana was convinced that she had seen the Princess Mary visiting Harper – that was something out of the ordinary and another piece to her virtual jigsaw puzzle along with that of Stephanie and two other pieces for her parents. Then, that Saturday morning, everything changed. Normally, only two visitors were allowed, however, _fourteen_ people descended on Harper that morning. Indeed, Diana found herself coming face-to-face with a scrappy, dishevelled looking little girl with blonde hair. That little girl had the same eyes as Harper and Stephanie. The girl with muddy jeans and her hair all over the place simply smiled as she walked past with her friends. Once inside Harper's room, the door had been firmly closed and a gorilla had taken up position in front of it, precluding any listening at the keyhole.

"Diana!"

Diana looked up to find Doctor Schneider grinning down at her.

"Come on – time for me to check over your stumps."

Diana grimaced. She hated that – it was always humiliating and often painful. She hated to see those stumps – all that remained of her legs – but there was no avoiding them. What was worse was taking a bath – she had to be lowered in by a pair of nurses and she knew that that was her fate that very evening. She was still mastering using her arms more to lever herself out of her wheelchair and onto her bed – the bath was something else, but she had been informed that she would figure it out in due course.

"Who is Harper and why is she so special?" Diana asked as she lay on the bed while the doctor removed the dressings from her tender stumps.

"Diana, that nose of yours will go the way of your legs if you don't reel it in," Doctor Schneider cautioned.

..._...

Twenty minutes later, Doctor Blake Schneider sat down at his desk in his tiny office, four doors down from the intrepid young Diana Price.

He pulled out the girl's file and he flipped through the pages, running his eyes over the neatly typed pages. Diana Amelia Price. Born October 4th, 2005. Parents killed in a car crash, August 2016. The girl was fairly tall for her eleven years and she was slim with deep brown hair and matching eyes. The youngster had a fiery temper when she was provoked and the anger at losing her mobility had caused many an angry word to pass her lips during fits of depression. She was not profane in any way, showing that she had been brought up properly. Indeed, the girl was very polite when dealing with the medical staff and apart from her annoying inclination for getting into trouble by being somewhere she was not supposed to be, she was a delightful patient to have on the ward.

Blake closed the folder. Before the end of November, Diana would have to leave the ward. She would be put up at a local children's home for a short while until her prosthetic legs were ready. To be honest, Blake was worried for the girl. She may have been happy in hospital, but the world outside for an eleven-year-old girl with no parents and no legs was a bleak one. He worried for her sanity as she had to get used to somewhere new after three months in the hospital where she had felt safe and she knew everybody and everything. Doctors were not supposed to become close to their patients, but with a child such as Diana, it was difficult to remain distant as you might with an adult patient.

She still had a long way to go, but she was recovering well, and he did not want to see her relapse.

..._...

Harper was having the time of her life – sort of.

It was the first time she had seen her friends in a long time and she was enjoying the attention – although maybe not the insistence on everybody peering under the bedsheet to see the wounds for themselves. Another problem she faced were the apologies. Kaitlin had apologised for being so close, but unable to rescue Harper. Finally, Harper had had enough.

"Look!" she almost yelled out. "It is nobody's goddamn fault that I was taken and nobody's goddamn fault that the rescue failed – it was just bad luck. I just think you were all fucking stupid for thinking me dead!"

The room had gone very silent as everybody absorbed Harper's words.

"I don't want pity. I don't want apologies. I don't want to be treated any differently. I am Harper Sharp. I am a _Predator_. Anybody fucks me about, then I will make damn sure that they join me in this shithole . . . do you fucking cocksuckers hear me?"

There were several nods from the kids and a grimace from Keira.

"You really know how to fuck up people's happiness, don't you?" Kaitlin growled. "Fucking lesbian twat!"

Harper laughed as did some of the others present. "Sis – would you?" she asked.

Keira slapped Kaitlin on the back of her head.

"Somebody had to say it!" Kaitlin growled as she stalked out of the room.

..._...

"Hi."

Diana looked up to see the same scrappy little girl peering around the door.

"Hello – come in. I'm Diana."

"Kaitlin."

Kaitlin pushed open the door, closing it too behind her as she entered the room.

"Mind if I come in?" Kaitlin asked.

"Feel free. You here to see Harper?"

"Yes . . . you know her?"

"We've talked once or twice . . . she's nice."

"Nice!" Kaitlin exclaimed.

"I like her."

"So, do I," Kaitlin admitted. "I just hate seeing her like that . . . I was so damn close . . . I just want my friend back. Sorry – what are you in for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Diana asked.

The eleven-year-old was sitting on her bed with what was left of her legs ahead of her. She was wearing shorts, so the dressings were readily visible on her stumps.

"Sorry," Kaitlin said.

Her eyes had not clocked the stumps while she had been thinking about Harper. Now, she could not keep her eyes off them – to be honest, she was horrified at the sight.

"Getting a good look?" Diana asked.

"I'm . . . I'm really sorry," Kaitlin stuttered as she bolted from the room.

"Hey!" Diana called after the girl, but Kaitlin had vanished.

..._...

Kaitlin ran down the corridor before colliding with somebody coming the other way.

"I'm sorry," Kaitlin offered.

"Have no fear, Kaitlin. Good to see you again."

"Huh?"

Kaitlin looked up into the familiar face of Captain Sinead McFadden, Royal Marines. The officer was grimacing from the pain of the impact and leaning on a short crutch with her left hand.

"Hi, Captain."

"Call me, Sinead. I'm not in uniform, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am . . . err, Sinead."

"What's wrong?"

"I just saw a girl with no legs and it shocked me a bit."

"That doesn't surprise me. You may not be a normal girl, Kaitlin, but you're only human."

Kaitlin grinned.

"I've come to see Harper; we've not met."

The two females walked back down the corridor. As they approached the two Royal Marines, both came to attention, despite being in civvies.

"Thank you," Captain McFadden commented. "At ease."

..._...

The Captain was mobbed almost the second she walked in the door.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "Talk about a welcome."

"You helped us win against Radford, Captain," Cameron pointed out.

"You helped me get my Harper back," Keira added.

"Hello, Harper, I'm Captain Sinead McFadden of Her Majesty's Royal Marines – 42 Commando, Reconnaissance Troop."

"Hello. I gather I owe my life to your Royal Marines," Harper responded with a brave smile.

"I am glad that we could help. I understand that you were putting your life on the line a long time before we joined the show. I heard a couple of your friends talking about you and what you meant to them. I also heard how skilled you are."

Harper had lapsed into an embarrassed silence which only got worse as the Captain pulled something from her pocket.

"This is for you, Harper Sharp, in recognition of your bravery and dedication to _Vengeance_."

Harper took the offered item and she struggled to say anything as she held the green beret in her hand. She then ran her hand over the globe and laurel badge before looking up at the Captain as tears spilt down her cheeks.

"Thank you."


	48. Family Support

**_Sunday, November 6th, 2016_**

 ** _Safehouse VY  
London, England_**

Naomi stopped dead as she returned from an early morning wee.

It was still dark out and she was half asleep but that did not stop her from seeing a door open – it was Trevor's room – and . . . holy shit! Keira was coming out and she was wrapped in just a towel – Naomi caught a flash of bare breast as Keira vanished back into _her_ bedroom.

Were they? Did they?

Ewww!

* * *

To be honest, it was _not_ meant to have happened.

Maybe she was feeling low and Trevor had been there as a shoulder to cry on. Maybe she had just been weak. Maybe she had needed the company. As she lay on her bed, wrapped in just a towel, she smiled. It had been lovely – an experience she had not experienced in quite a while. With Harper freshly reappeared in her life, sex and the associated relationships had not been very high up on her list of priorities. To be even more honest, she had been weak, but she had needed companionship, somebody to talk to. They had talked – talked a lot, in fact. The talking had then turned into tears and that had resulted in a comforting arm. Then they had hugged. She could not remember who had initiated the kissing, nor the heavy petting. She had been so desperate for human contact. Trevor was bringing up a child alone – at least while his wife was in hospital – just as she was. Only, his child was a normal boy while she had . . . what did she have? She had a nine-year-old assassin for a sister. That little girl needed somebody to bring her up and not just that, she has suffered unbelievable torture while in captivity. It was a struggle which Keira was unsure if she could handle on her own.

Therefore, the petting and the kissing had extended, or descended, into graphic nudity and sexual exploration.

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Harper's day started well as three nurses arrived.

They began to disconnect her various wires and intravenous tubes which appealed to the youngster – at least until the more uncomfortable and decidedly humiliating part of having the invasive urinary catheter removed which had the young girl blushing as fingers prodded and probed her vulva. The feeling was weird, but the relief of the removal of the tube felt a lot better. Her sister was there, holding her hand throughout the entire procedure which was a relief for the youngster. Strangely, her sister had been a little more pleasant since her arrival and not so snappy – she was even smiling. As the connections were removed from her body, the otherwise naked youngster was provided with a hospital gown to allow her to retain some of her modesty. Then came the more difficult task.

"You ready for this, Harps?" Keira asked.

Harper had not stood on her own two feet in weeks and suddenly, she felt very unsure of herself. She tried to move her legs, to swing them off to her left but they would not move.

"Slowly," Keira said soothingly.

Harper tried again, and her legs moved slightly, but the pain of using muscles which had not been used in a long time was extreme. Harper cried out in pain and she froze.

"Keep it coming – don't stop now," Keira said encouragingly.

Harper gripped her sister's hand tightly as she forced her muscles to respond and with another cry of pain, she was able to bend her knees and swivel her legs around and she found herself facing her sister, her hand held tightly. Next, she had to stand. Normally, somebody would stand before her and take hold of both of her hands, only, her left hand was in far too fragile a state to be grasped. Harper was shaking from the pain and she did not want to endure anymore suffering. As she stood in front of her little sister, Keira's heart went out to Harper. The young girl was really suffering, and it was up to her to bring her sister back into the real world as a healthy child. She would do anything for the little girl sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Take my hand, Harper. I will pull you forwards, slowly. You _can_ do this."

"I can't, Kei."

Keira blinked. Harper had not called her 'Kei' since she was seven . . . and not since she had returned to Keira several months before. Back when Harper had been very young, she had not been able to pronounce 'Keira', so it had just been 'Kei', and then, when Harper was a little older, the abbreviated name had been reserved for when Harper was really scared and in need of comfort. Harper had always been a tearful little girl, bursting into tears whenever something, anything, did not go her way – which was often, and you could almost set your watch by her decidedly soggy outbursts. However, ever since her _Predator_ days, the youngster had been hard as nails with a decisive nature to match. There had been no more tears as Harper just got angry and used her fists when she could no longer get her way now. Keira had spent the Friday night with Harper and she had learnt how badly her little sister was hurting. As she had done for a few nights, she had bolted awake, screaming and shouting. Harper had been almost inconsolable with tears streaming down her face.

It had taken over an hour to calm her down which had been less that had been required by the night staff on the nights Keira had not been present.

..._...

"Look at me," Keira directed. "Look into my eyes and focus on me and me alone."

Harper nodded slowly as her sister grasped her right hand and then her left upper arm. Harper felt the pull on her limbs and despite the pain, she pushed her feet towards the floor and she soon felt the cold linoleum beneath her bare feet. She kept her eyes fixed on those of her sister, feeding off the moral support which they gave her. She could remember those eyes always being filled with comfort, ever since she could remember. They had always been there when she had needed comfort. For a moment, the girl felt like she was seven-years-old again and _Urban Predator_ had not yet arrived on her doorstep. Her whole world was her big sister, Keira. Harper took a deep breath as her legs took the full weight of her body. The tears fell as her feet screamed out in pain. Both feet were badly bruised, but mostly on top. The little toe on her left foot was bandaged and still painful. As for the right foot which had a bandage around the sole and top where she had been stabbed, that was also very painful. While in bed, her feet had not hurt so much, but now that they were supporting her full weight, they ached like the buggery.

"I see you are on your feet, young lady," Doctor Schneider said as he entered the room. "You're taller than I expected, Harper."

Harper forgot her aching feet and legs as she grinned, her cheeks turning pink. She was led out of her room and she got her first look around as she was led to the left and into a bathroom. The Doctor carefully wrapped Harper's left hand in a plastic covering before he lifted Harper onto a table and he removed the dressings from her feet. Harper winced throughout the unwrapping, but she controlled her tears.

"Okay, Harper, I'll leave you alone with your sister. If either of you need assistance, please call."

The Doctor left, along with a nurse who had just run a warm bath. Once the door was closed, Keira helped Harper remove her hospital gown. Harper had the opportunity to look at own body in the mirror for a moment as Keira helped her off the table and back onto her feet. It was the first time that she had been able to see the damage to her own body with her own eyes . . . and she was appalled. As she saw each injury, her mind conjured up the event which caused that same injury.

Harper begun to sob as the memories of her torture began to overwhelm her and she fell into the arms of her sister who hugged her tightly before gently lowering the girl into the warm water of the bath.

..._...

Harper was struggling to cope with the sensations and emotions.

Her body ached and every now and then pain would shoot through her. The water felt hot on her skin and hotter on the more tender areas where she was wounded. Tears still rolled down her cheeks but the touch of her sister's hand on her shoulder felt comforting. Gently, Keira poured a jug of bathwater over her sister's hair, protecting her eyes. A small bottle of shampoo followed, and Keira took her time washing her sister's sweat-soaked hair.

"I've not done this for you since you were about six," Keira commented, visualising an innocent little Harper from almost four years previously.

"Thank you, Kei."

"I love you, Harper, and I will do everything necessary to get you better and back to the person you used to be."

"The old me, or the _Predator_ me?" Harper asked.

"I don't care, as long as I have my little sister with me."

"I love you, Kei."

Harper allowed her sister to continue washing her body as she kept her left arm clear of the water. The water was relaxing, and her aching body absorbed the soothing warmth. It was so soothing that her eyes began to close as she lay back against the bath.

* * *

 ** _Mid-2015_**

"Hey!"

"Fuck off, Ward!"

Harper opened her eyes and threw back the duvet. It was the start of another day in hell. The grinning face of Naomi Ward was _not_ what she wanted to see first thing in the morning. She wanted to seriously hurt whichever wack-job had placed them in the same dormitory with adjacent beds. Harper sat up and she glared at the bitch who simply grinned as she pulled off her clothes and grabbed her towel before joining other girls heading for the bathroom.

Harper quickly followed suit, not wanting to be late for breakfast or worse.

..._...

"Fucking hell!" Harper yelled a few minutes later as something struck her on the left shoulder and she saw a bar of soap spinning off across the wet tiles at her feet amid the sounds of raucous laughter.

With practiced ease, Harper swept up another bar of soap and she span, sending the bar of soap spinning through the air where it struck Naomi Ward on the forehead, sending the girl falling onto her back. The youngster screamed as she struck the hard tiles and there were encouraging yells from the various other girls present.

Harper quickly washed off the soap from her body and left the showers.

..._...

By the time Harper sat down for breakfast, Ward's forehead was displaying a red mark where the soap had struck.

"Good shooting, Ward!" the girl with long jet-black hair commented as she sat down.

"The bitch had it coming."

"I like your style – you'll go far, kid."

"Gee, thanks, Lily."

"Just trying to be friendly."

Naomi Ward approached the table some minutes later and she glared at Brown for a moment before throwing most of a glass of water into her face.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, November 6th, 2016_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Harper jumped as she came awake, her face wet.

"Sorry!" Keira said as she quickly wiped away the excess water from the jug she had used to rinse Harper's hair.

"It's okay . . . I must have dozed off," Harper grinned.

"I'd forgotten how soft your hair was – you've looked after it well."

"I try – they had decent shampoo in _Urban Predator_ ," Harper commented. "Do you think Naomi has forgiven me for all the nasty things I said and did?"

"Honey, Naomi is your friend."

"I was so nasty to her . . . but then she was nasty to me, too, I suppose."

"Naomi is your best friend and you two are thick as thieves."

Harper grinned.

"Okay – that's you as clean as you're going to get – let's get you out of there."

..._...

A much cleaner Harper lay back on her bed.

Harper was unhappy to find herself being reconnected to the electrical connections, however, only one drip was reconnected to her right hand leaving the rest disconnected.

"No tube up my fanny?" Harper asked the nurse.

"No catheter," the nurse confirmed with a grin. "We're going to see how you go – literally. Just remember to let us know if you need to wee."

"I can do that," Harper grinned.

The nurse began to reapply the bandages to Harper's clean feet while the other nurse began to unwrap her left hand. Harper's eyes began to show extreme fear as the plastic cover came off, but the nurse continued.

"No . . . don't . . . please."

Harper was begging, and the tears had returned. She pulled her left arm away from the nurse, but the arm was held in place by the other nurse.

"Please . . . it hurts."

"Harper!"

Harper stopped crying and she looked up at Doctor Schneider.

"Do you _want_ to get better?" he demanded. "Do you want to be crippled for the rest of your life?"

"No," Harper replied, tears streaming down her face. "They hurt, and I don't want anybody to touch them."

"It'll be okay, Harper," Dr Schneider offered soothingly. "Trust me."

As the dressings were removed from the splinted fingers, Harper began to howl with the pain.

* * *

 ** _Across the corridor and two doors down_**

Diana was sitting with Scarlett and they had been talking – well, Diana had done almost all of the talking.

Then, they had heard screaming and Scarlett had looked over towards the door. Diana was shocked to see the older girl begin to shake as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"What is it? Do you need a nurse?" Diana asked.

"It's my fault."

"Huh?"

"I did this to her."

"Who?"

"I hurt her."

"Make sense, girl!"

Scarlett looked directly at Diana as she spoke.

"I stood by and allowed Harper to be tortured. I hurt her when I should have been defending her."

"Come again?"

"Diana – I'm the reason that Harper Sharp is screaming her head off. I allowed my father to torture her. I listened as her fingers were broken. I heard each and every snap of a joint. I heard her screaming. I should have done something. Anything."

Diana could not think of anything to say as she listened to Harper scream, but it was a few more pieces of her mental jigsaw puzzle.

* * *

 ** _Back across the corridor and two doors up_**

Harper fell asleep very soon after the new dressings had been applied after the doctor had checked her broken fingers.

The pain had been too much for the youngster and the drugs had quickly put her under. Keira was also asleep, lying on a pull-out bed beside her sister. It had been very distressing for her too.

"Is Harper okay?" Diana asked Dr Schneider as he left the room.

"Yes, she is."

"Scarlett said that she had a part in her injuries. Is that true?"

"I'm sorry, Diana, but I cannot comment on another patient – you know that."

"Okay."

* * *

 ** _The following morning_**

 ** _Monday, November 7th_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Keira awoke first, and she sought out a hot cup of coffee.

On her return to the room, she found Harper still asleep. She had slept soundly without any nightmares – at least, none which had had her screaming out in distress. Keira took a moment to look out over Lambeth Palace Gardens and the River Thames. After a few minutes of standing at the window and sipping her coffee, she heard movements from behind her. She turned to find Harper stirring and then her eyes opened. The girl smiled up at her big sister.

"How are you feeling, Harps?"

"A little better; I can't feel that thing between my legs. I'm hungry."

"I'll go see what I can find for you," Keira grinned.

..._...

Forty minutes later, Harper was finishing off her bowl of porridge.

"I need to wee," Harper stated as she dropped the spoon into the empty bowl with a clatter.

"You feel like walking?" Keira asked.

Harper thought about that for a moment. The toilet was attached to her room and was through a door at the end of her bed. Not a long distance to go. Harper nodded.

"Yes, please."

Keira helped Harper to swing her legs off the bed and a nurse disconnected the drip. Keira could see the worry in her sister's eyes as she carefully slid forwards and then rested her bare feet on the floor.

"Very good," Keira stated.

With her sister's help, Harper struggled over to the toilet, exercising those muscles which had not been utilised properly in weeks. Her face was contorted with both concentration and pain, but Keira let it slide, knowing that Harper would manage. It was with great relief that Harper pushed open the door and with even greater relief that she sat down on the toilet and released her bladder.

"I'll leave you to it," Keira commented.

"No," Harper replied quickly. "Please stay."

Harper winced once or twice – her urine infection had not completely vanished, and the liquid stung her down below. But it was still a relief to be in control of her own bodily functions. Being able to walk again – if painfully – was also a relief and she was glad to have mobility. That thought gave her an idea as she finished emptying her bladder.

"Don't forget to wipe, Harps!" Keira chuckled as she helped Harper to stand up.

"Funny, Kei, funny."

..._...

As Harper was helped back to her bed, she turned to Keira.

"Can I go for a walk . . . please?"

"I suppose," Keira responded as she fished around in a bag down beside the bed. "Let's get you dressed . . . a little."

A few minutes later, Harper was grinning. She wore a loose navy-blue nighty which covered her completely to just below her knees. On her feet, she wore a pair of fluffy pink slippers with eyes on the front. Harper gave her sister a what-the-fuck look but Keira just grinned.

"Where are you heading?" Keira asked.

"I need to go see the resident nutcase," Harper grinned as she pulled open the door.

Harper paused outside the room, having no idea where to go.

"Sis?"

Keira laughed, and she pointed across the corridor and one door up. Harper followed her sister's directions and she found herself pushing open the door to the room. Inside, she got a shock when she found Diana sitting on her bed – it was the first time Harper had properly seen the stumps and for a moment, it freaked her out.

"Hi, Harper – you're mobile; cool!" Diana exclaimed but then she saw Harper's eyes. "Don't worry – everybody reacts that way; I'm used to it."

"I just wanted to come see you – now I'm able to walk . . . kind of."

"I like people to visit – only people rarely do," Diana said forlornly.

Harper figured that that was because Diana was always in other people's rooms.

"Hey," Diana said. "Why don't we go see your friend?"

Harper's eyes narrowed. "Friend?" she hissed.

"You can't ignore her forever – she's really broken up about what happened," Diana said.

" _She's_ broken up!"

Diana slipped off the bed into her wheelchair and headed out the door.

"You coming?" Diana called out over her shoulder.

..._...

Scarlett was in the same sulky state she had been in for over a week.

Hearing Harper's screaming day and night did not exactly help matters. She also felt very alone. Harper had had a constant stream of visitors while Scarlett had had nobody but the doctor and the nurses. She had not even left the room – she did not dare in case she should meet somebody who wanted her dead. There was also one person that she did _not_ want to meet. Scarlett looked up as her door opened – it was Diana!

"Hello, Diana – what do you want?"

"Hi, Scarlett."

Diana wheeled herself in and Scarlett focussed on the younger girl just as somebody else hobbled slowly into the room. Scarlett froze, and she went very cold all of a sudden.

"What are you. . .?"

"I don't want to be here – see Diana," Harper growled as she settled herself into a soft chair.

Diana groaned.

"Come on, you two. I know there's something between you. I also know that you are both worried about each other," she said.

"Worried about her?" Harper growled. "As if!"

"Harper . . . I . . ."

"Scarlett – look, Diana is determined to have us fucking by day's end, so lets just put the past behind us, huh? I came in here with my brain full of 'hand' jokes and I really wanted to make you suffer, only . . . you could have made me _really_ suffer, but you did not. The worst you did was shove me into a muddy puddle and soak me with water. You could not have stopped your father doing what he did. You could not have stopped that woman from snapping my fingers. I know you threatened me, but I don't think you have it in you. As it stands, my friend took you to task and you have something to remind you of our time together . . . for the rest of your life. We cannot change the past; we can only look to the future. I want to be your friend, Scarlett. I will help you get past this. I think we both need one another to move on, yes?"

Scarlett just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She was not ready for facing up to Harper and the unannounced visit had come as a shock. She knew it was Diana trying to ease things, and while the girl thought she was doing the right thing, she had no idea of what was really going on and how both Harper and Scarlett had actually been hurt. Scarlett came to a decision and looked over at Harper.

"Okay, Harper, I believe I have no choice . . . and Diana is determined to stick her nose in where it doesn't belong. To be brutally honest, I am now very much alone – my family is gone. I have only one hand and I have no idea how I am going to survive alone. I have no idea where I am going to go when I am done here. Harper, I need your help."

"That was big of you, Scarlett," Harper admitted from her chair.

Scarlett grimaced. The teenager looked miserable and embarrassed. She had never had to beg for help in her life, but she was at rock-bottom and she had no choice. She was also repentant in every way for what she had done. How handing her fate to the person she had had a part in torturing, not to mention her vigilante friends, was going to end, she had no idea.

"I want to make amends . . . I know that will be a long road and I know that I will suffer, but . . . please."

Harper struggled to her feet and she moved over to the bed. Scarlett flinched away from the younger girl, despite knowing that Harper was in no state to hurt her. Harper moved up the left side of the bed and then she took Scarlett's left hand in her right.

"I promise to help you in any way that I can, Scarlett," Harper said before she moved right beside Scarlett's left ear so that Diana could not hear. "However, you do anything that hazards me, or my friends, and I will torture you and then, I – will – kill – you."

Diana saw Scarlett's pale face go very white as Harper stood back up.

* * *

Keira noticed Harper's grim expression as she returned to her bed.

"How did it go?" Keira asked as she helped Harper back into her bed.

"She's feeling remorse – although, I'm not sure if that is for me or her hand. Naomi did a good job, but to be honest, I'm glad she didn't kill the girl. She was kind to me and she could have really hurt me if she had wanted to. She passed up every opportunity to make life harder for me and the humiliation worse."

"I would have killed her just like I blew up her father," Keira grumbled.

"Radford deserved that, but Scarlett did not deserve a Hellfire up her snatch. Promise me you won't hurt her, Keira."

"I promise not to hurt her . . . too badly."

"Keira!"

"Okay!" Keira exclaimed. "I promise not to hurt Scarlett Radford . . . even though she tortured my baby sister."

"Good enough," Harper grinned as she lay back on her pillow to rest.

* * *

 ** _The early hours of the following morning_**

Harper was awake – she could not sleep.

Her young mind was teaming with worries and things which a nine-year-old should not have to worry about. Her life was very complicated and none of it was her fault. She was a _Predator,_ and nothing could change that. She had a life and she had responsibilities. What responsibilities might a nine-year-old girl actually have, you may ask? Well, since her return from _Urban Predator_ , Harper had become the de facto leader of the all-girl _Vengeance_ vigilante trio with Naomi and Kaitlin. She had also become a trainer of 'newbies' – a task which she had relished – and it appeared that she had been successful. Olivia, Jessica, Christopher, and Jeremy had all survived everything thrown at them which was something that Harper could accept as a success on her part – Craig had said as much during his visit. As for Mary, the girl had sorted herself out and Electra had said that Mary had been perfect during an attack on Kensington Palace. Harper had missed a lot, but her friends had prevailed without her assistance. Did they still need her? Would she still be welcomed back into _Vengeance_? That was Harper's worst worry – would she be side-lined?

The young girl finally drifted off to sleep and she found herself in a place she had not dreamt of before.

...+...

It was a large open area, much like a park – there were trees and most of the area was grass.

The sky was blue, and the sun was shining. Its warmth made the park feel like it was the height of summer. There was nobody in sight, just her and . . .

"Harper?"

"Keira?"

Harper was surprised to see her sister striding across the grass towards her. Wasn't it her own dream? What was Harper doing in _her_ dream?

"What are you doing in my dream, Kei?"

"What are _you_ doing in _my_ dream, Harps?"

"This place seems familiar – I just don't know where from."

Keira thought about it for a moment before her eyes brightened.

"Do you remember the last time we were all together? You know – you, me, Mum, and Dad?"

"You were just about to return to your ship and it was a last time for us all to be together and have fun. I had just turned seven and you had just been promoted to Lieutenant. I'd forgotten. It was the best time of my life," Harper remembered.

"It was also the last time I ever saw Mum and Dad – and the last time I thought I would ever see you," Keira admitted.

"I had about a month with Mum and Dad before I was taken – I never thought I would see anybody again."

Then both girls froze as a voice from their past rang out.

"Ah, perfect . . . my two lovely girls!"

Harper and Keira both spun around. Their eyes had to be deceiving them – it could not be.

..._...

"Mum?" Keira said.

"Mummy!" Harper exclaimed as she ran forwards.

Kimberley Sharp held out her arms as her youngest daughter ran towards her and she then wrapped her arms around the same girl as she jumped up into her arms. Harper bathed in the warmth of her mother's hug – something which she had not felt in almost three years. She felt safe. She felt loved. She felt content. She then felt squished as Keira arrived and she was pulled into the hug having just as much right to be hugged by her mother whom she had not seen for just as long.

"What about me?" came an indignant voice. "Don't I get a hug from my special girls?"

Harper quickly wriggled out from between her Mum and big sister before rushing over to her Daddy. Ian Sharp grinned as his baby girl leapt into his open arms. He missed his girls, especially his little Harper.

"I missed you, Daddy."

"I missed you, too, honey."

Harper gave in and she sobbed her heart out for what felt like an hour. She was a daddy's girl at heart and losing him had been very hard on her – not to mention that she had put a bullet in his head. Finally, she slithered back to the ground.

"I killed you," Harper whispered.

"I know, honey," her father replied as he knelt down before his youngest daughter. "You had no choice – none at all."

"You had to do it," her mother confirmed.

"It was easy to do; it just felt natural. The pistol felt right in my hand. Then, two gentle squeezes of the trigger and as the smoke from the gunshots was sucked away by the air-conditioning and the sound of the gunshots faded – two bodies lay dead before me . . . my family was dead," Harper recalled. "Why are you here? How can you be here?"

"We don't really know," her father said as he sat down on the grass and cradled Harper into his chest. "We've been watching over you ever since you returned to your sister. We know what happened to you and why you are in hospital. We so wanted to intervene, but it is strictly forbidden."

"We hated it when Keira could not rescue you," her mother said from where she stood with an arm around her eldest daughter's shoulders. "However, it was fate, and fate alone which prevented Keira from rescuing you, Harper. Fate is something strong that none of us can defeat. It was your fate to be taken. It was your fate to be tortured. It was your fate to remain there until Sebastian Radford was dead."

"You both have a life ahead of you. It appears that fate is going to be kind on you both – at least for a while," Ian Harper explained. "Only, it looks like fate will be sparring you both any personal heartache, but somebody else will suffer instead."

"Who?" Harper asked.

"We cannot tell you that," her mother stated. "We have already said to much. Nonetheless, you are both going to be happy and neither one of you is going to be alone any longer."

Keira frowned at the very cryptic comment.

"We have to go, now," Kimberley Sharp continued. "It is almost dawn and we can only see you in your dreams. Good luck to you both, girls. Stay safe and look after one another. Your father and I trust you both and we love you both very much."

"I love you too, Mummy," Harper replied. "You, too, Daddy."

"It was so good to see you, Mum – and you, Dad," Keira added.

Ian and Kimberly Sharp waved as they both walked off into the trees before vanishing.


	49. Jordan

**_Monday, November 7th, 2016_**

 ** _Scotland_**

 ** _That afternoon_**

The brief visit to London had been fun and seeing Harper for the first time in weeks was a bonus.

They all knew that their friend was alive, but actually seeing her, touching her, and talking to her, had made it all so much more real. Naturally, their rowdiness had increased, so that by the time they were being roused for school, they were still hyperactive. In fact, by the time Cassie had turned up to collect her two girls from school, Kaitlin's teacher looked more than a little tired. Cassie had seen her youngest daughter's enormous energy-backed grin and she had seriously contemplated running for the hills.

"You not run out of steam, yet?" Cassie asked.

"She's doing my head in!" Naomi groused as she stalked past her younger cousin.

"I embarrassed her," Kaitlin explained in a very loud voice. "There's this boy – he's called Jimmy – and Naomi thinks he's 'nice'."

Naomi groaned as Kaitlin used her fingers to accentuation the word 'nice'. Cassie chuckled as she herded the girls to the car. Kaitlin slithered to a halt.

"What is that?" Kaitlin demanded.

"Where's the Audi?" Naomi asked.

"It was time for a change," Cassie commented as she unlocked her new VW Tiguan R-Line.

Neither girl appeared very impressed as they climbed into the back. However, Kaitlin did brighten up as she examined the panoramic sunroof.

"It'll do, I suppose," she grumbled.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Training Centre – Wolf  
Sub-Level One_**

Disorder. Chaos. Pandemonium. Mayhem. Havoc. Furore. Anarchy.

Take your pick – all applied in an equal amount to the maelstrom of youth which threatened to explode into something nasty and unpleasant. The adults present were laying bets on who would come a cropper first out of the seven youngsters running around the training area. Each wore their duty uniforms, even the new members who had been speedily quipped.

"Order!" Drift bellowed, and all eight kids froze in place. "Form up, please."

The seven kids formed up into a single line across the training area. Before them, Drift, Crimson, Nemesis, Scorpion, and Raptor stood watching while Chief, Sleuth, and Doc, stood over to one side with Q.

"Welcome back, _Vengeance_!" Crimson announced loudly, and everybody cheered.

"We have done well," Drift said. "We are all safe, even Polaris. You all deserve a rest, but we have the Central Belt to protect. We have our organisation to put back together again. We have bad guys to put down. We also have some new members who need to be integrated into _Vengeance_. Therefore, we shall begin with the newbies."

"Before things went bad, we had three Trainee Operators and a single Senior Trainee Operator. Now, we have _six_ Trainee Operators, of which five are present here today, and a pair of Senior Trainee Operators – only one of whom is here," Crimson explained. "Ajax, Forager, Overrun, and Harrier – we welcome you all to _Vengeance_. You all handled the extremes of being dragged from your lives, and being thrown into the harsh life of the vigilante, very well. Ajax, for one, suffered more than most. However, you all supported her through what had to be a shocking experience."

Ajax grimaced as memories flooded through her mind. Glide rested a reassuring hand on her and Ajax smiled.

"You are each made _Vengeance_ Trainee Operators, congratulations," Crimson finished, and she handed each of the new vigilantes their _Vengeance_ identity card."

Once the applause had died down, Crimson spoke again.

"Our other Trainee Operator is, of course, Belle. She will receive her card when she visits in a few weeks. Now, we have promoted Rigour and Prowl to become our new Senior Trainee Operators."

There was more applause as Prowl received her new _Vengeance_ identity card.

"Rigour will visit in a few weeks for her card," Drift explained. "Our former Senior Trainee Operator, Polaris, has been promoted to join Stripe as a Junior Operator. Naturally, she is not here - and she will not be for a few more weeks – but we are looking forward to her return."

Polaris received her own applause which almost lifted the roof off the facility.

..._...

The rest of the evening was spent showing the newbies around and explaining the rules that went with _Vengeance_.

Naturally, Stripe spent a lot of time with Ajax and he insisted on showing her the sleeping quarters. Chief kept an eye on the two lovebirds to ensure that they kept their clothes on for the evening. It was a fairly casual evening to allow everybody to get used to being back at home. For the newbies, it was one hell of an experience as they found themselves official members of _Vengeance_. For each of them, the past few weeks had been amazing – scary, but amazing. For Ajax, it was very special and well-earned. She had suffered badly at one stage and she had been close to dying to protect _Vengeance_. She had been stupid, very stupid. She so wished that she could go back in time and not screw up so badly. She had been humiliated and treated like shit, but her friends had quickly rallied around her the moment she had been cleared.

For Ajax and her sister, _Vengeance_ was a dream come true.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Tuesday, November 8th_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Edinburgh, Scotland_**

"Natasha, they have a favour to ask of you," Jasper began.

"Okay – now we're flavour of the month; they're asking?"

Jasper nodded meekly.

"Yes – _Vengeance_ is back in the good books. Yes – they're asking."

"Well?"

"I told them that _Vengeance_ is not a children's refuge . . . but they persisted. They have a boy – he's been in a home for the past several months. He needs to get out of there – only he's not the most ideal candidate for adoption."

"He's a _Predator_ , I assume?" Natasha asked.

"Yes – he's been in the home ever since _Urban Predator_ folded."

"But there's more?"

"Or less."

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Vengeance Training Centre – Wolf  
Sub-Level One_**

"I can take him!" Glide growled as she faced off against the new boy.

The thirteen-year-old new boy was a good few inches taller than the eight-year-old.

"I don't want to hurt you, little girl," the boy responded.

"You gotta catch me to hurt me. . ."

Glide began to move quickly, but the boy was able to move just as quickly, despite the barely perceptible limp in his left leg. Glide had caught the limp and she assumed the boy to be injured in some way. While Glide could be sympathetic when she wanted to be, a fight before her peers was not a suitable moment for sympathy. She went all out on the boy and she fought well, only the boy's skills were better – much better. Glide was struggling as she fought the new boy and she was being jeered by her 'friends' as she was repeatedly put down onto the mat. Glide was not one to stay down – despite suggestions from those who knew better. The new boy, his name was Jordan, smiled and then he brought his left leg up and towards Glide who blocked the oncoming limb with her right arm.

"Motherfucker!" Glide yelled out as she cradled her sore arm against her chest.

"Glide!" Nemesis exploded. "That'll cost you ten pounds, young lady."

"How could you. . .?" Glide demanded as she looked up at the young boy.

Prowl, Stripe, and Ajax all burst out laughing, much to the younger girl's chagrin. Crimson looked over at Nemesis who smirked.

"This is Jordan Hanley, he is a _Predator_ ," Nemesis explained.

"My question still stands," Glide growled.

"Jordan wanted to tell you in his own way," Nemesis went on.

"Tell us what?" Prowl enquired.

"I didn't want you all to see me as incomplete. Or as somebody who was incapable of keeping up with you guys. I also don't want any pity. . ."

"What is he talking about?" Ajax asked, and Stripe's expression mirrored that of Ajax.

In response, Jordan sat down on the mat and he pulled down his joggers. At first, the girls smirked as they saw Jordan's underwear, but the smiles vanished almost immediately. Everything below the boy's knee, on his left side, was artificial and very hi-tech.

"I lost everything below the knee during Phase 2 training – it got infected after I was wounded during a major exercise," the boy explained before he paused. "One day, I will find the girl that did this to me – and I will return the favour . . . I'm not bitter – far from it; some days I just feel like I don't have a leg to stand on."

Prowl laughed first, followed by Glide and Ajax – Overrun did not seem amused, but she eventually joined in after Crimson and Nemesis.

..._...

"You have a codename?" Craig asked the boy as he checked out the dagger behind Jordan's right ear.

"Viridian," Jordan responded as he towelled himself dry after a shower.

"That leg looks pretty cool," Craig commented.

"The best the CIA could produce – it's lightweight but very strong."

"You fight really well, Jordan," Naomi commented as she finished dressing a few feet away. "Have you no shame?" she demanded as her younger cousin sauntered past her and Jordan on the way towards the showers.

The youngster had a towel draped over he left shoulder, but otherwise, she was completely naked.

"I am eight – I have nothing to hide; my body is what it is," Kaitlin replied in a nonchalant tone as she barely broke her step before she vanished around the corner.

"She has a point," Jordan commented as he finished dressing. "Mind you – I wouldn't mind seeing that Jessica. . ."

..._...

As the evening wound down, the boy appeared a little unsure of himself.

"Where am I going, tonight?" he asked Cassie.

"You're going home with Craig and his Dad – is that okay?" Cassie replied.

"That's great!" Jordan commented. "I thought I might end up with those girls."

"Careful, Jordan – two of 'those girls' are my daughters," Cassie grinned.

"You have two _Predators_ for daughters?" Jordan asked. "You're brave!"

"I heard that!" Naomi growled.

"He's right," Cassie pointed out. " _Predators_ are a damn nightmare – bloody lethal, too!"

"We are what we are," Kaitlin commented.

* * *

 ** _Beacon Croft_**

"Hello, Jordan. I'm Amy Montgomery. I am Craig's mother."

"Hello, ma'am."

"Call me, Amy."

Jordan felt very welcome as Craig's mother smiled down at him. She pushed a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of chocolate biscuits across the table towards the boy.

"Supper, before bed," she explained as Craig dug into his own plate of biscuits and sipped at his own hot drink.

Jordan just sat there, eating and drinking, thinking about his life. The previous day, he had been in a children's home, down near York. He had not got on with the other kids – they saw the cripple as strange; even _before_ , you took in his fake leg. Yes, he had been a _Predator_ , and a crippled one at that. He had no idea how to get on with the other kids – and they did not want to get on with him. Jordan had often resorted to violence which had had him moved from home to home over a number of months. Somehow, he had found himself back with his kin and with people that seemed to want him around, despite them knowing what he was. Craig was vaguely familiar – they must have met somewhere in the past.

"You ready for bed?" Craig's mum asked kindly.

"Yes, please. That was lovely, err Amy."

"Off you go, then – mind you both brush your teeth!" she called after them.

..._...

Jordan was amazed to find some new clothes awaiting him in 'his' bedroom, including some new pyjamas.

He changed and then went to brush his teeth in the bathroom next door. A new toothbrush awaited him, along with a tube of toothpaste. Just as he was finishing, Craig appeared, chewing on his own toothbrush.

"You, okay?" Craig asked.

"Yes," Jordan replied. "This is all a bit of a shock to me. Normally, people hate me within minutes of knowing me."

Craig flinched at Jordan's sad expression – he had been there.

"You're among friends, Jordan – nobody judges us _Predators_. You've seen Olivia – by the way, she's mine, so hands off – and she has nothing against _Predators_ despite her being a normal girl. It's the same with the other normal kids – long story, but they accept us strange kids and they don't judge us."

"Thanks for telling me that. I think I'm going to sleep well, tonight."

* * *

 ** _The next morning  
Wednesday, November 9th_**

Jordan awoke late, that morning.

He trudged down the stairs to find Craig finishing off his breakfast. Across the table from him, Olivia sat giggling.

"Hi, Jordan!" Olivia called out.

"Hi," Jordan replied. "Sorry I'm late for breakfast."

"Don't be silly, Jordan," Amy chuckled. "These two have school – you don't; until Monday that is. You'll be spending the day with David."

"See ya, Jordan!" Olivia grinned as she dragged Craig out the door.

* * *

 ** _Later that same morning_**

 ** _Vengeance Air Station - Thunderbolt_**

"What is this place?"

"An old RAF base – RAF Kirknewton. Used only for ATC gliders now . . . and us . . . we repurposed an ancient hanger; it was modernised and extended."

Jordan was looked on, amazed, as they passed through security fences and onwards toward a large hanger.

"They were returned to us, just the other night," David commented as they climbed out of his Ford Ranger.

The hanger was large, about 120 feet by 70 feet, and the corrugated iron structure covered an area of about 8,500 square feet. The main hanger doors stretched 96-feet, from end to end, and faced in a southerly direction onto a large reinforced-concrete hardstanding of about the same area as the hanger itself. The perimeter was an eight-foot tall, razor-wire-topped, chain-link fence which enclosed an area of about seven acres in total. David walked up to a door, over to the right, and he punched in a code, twice, before the door clicked open.

"Welcome to Thunderbolt, Jordan. This is Flight Operations. Through that door is the galley and then the pilot lounge. Through here. . ."

Jordan followed David out of Flight Operations and into an enormous hanger all but filled by two awesome looking helicopters. The closest machine was smaller than the other.

"McDonnell Douglas MD530F," Jordan breathed.

"Correct – Scourge, we call her. Beyond that, we have Twilight."

"Agusta-Westland AW109LUH – very nice."

"We think so – she's got us out of more than one scrape in one piece," David commented. "We need to inventory the weapons, today. We'll start with the guided munitions."

"You got it!" Jordan replied, excited to be involved with V _engeance_.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Where the hell did you go?" Kaitlin demanded.

"Err, Kaitlin – manners!" Naomi prompted.

Kaitlin growled as she rolled her eyes.

"Mummy, why didn't you pick us up from school today?" Kaitlin said sweetly, with a fake-as-shit smile.

Naomi burst out laughing and Cassie could not help chuckling at Kaitlin's drama queen sweetness.

"Jasper and I went for a trip down to Peterborough – well, a place a few miles to the northeast, to be exact," Cassie explained.

"Why?" Kaitlin persisted.

"Not telling you."

"Why?"

"Not telling you."

"Why?"

"She'll do this all night, Mum," Naomi pointed out.

"I – am – not – telling – you!" Cassie said pointedly. "If you are good girls then you may find out on Saturday morning."

"But it's only Wednesday!" Kaitlin declared unhappily.

"At least you know the days of the week!" Cassie chuckled as Kaitlin stormed off up the stairs, stamping on each step as she went.

"Moody," Naomi grinned. "Muuum. . ."

"I'm not telling _you_ , either."

* * *

 ** _Three days later  
Saturday, November 12th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"KAITLIN!" Cassie exclaimed, and the youngster flinched.

"Sorry. . ."

"What are _we_ doing here?" Jessica demanded.

There was a loud rumbling sound from outside and an enormous green-painted, Army 6-tonne truck pulled up beside the house. Kaitlin and Naomi ran outside with Olivia, Jessica, and Christopher close behind. Jasper and Cassie followed on behind. The five kids were very surprised to see two men they recognised climbing down from either side of the cab.

"Hello, kids!" Sergeant Billy Martin called out.

"Morning all!" Lance Corporal Jerry Nicol added.

Neither Royal Marine had been seen since the attack on Radford's airfield. Kaitlin, Naomi, and Olivia all grinned happily and rushed forwards to say hello. They then introduced Jessica and Christopher who had spent the attack on the _Caledonia_.

"What are you guys doing here?" Kaitlin asked.

"Making a delivery," came the Sergeant's cryptic response as he walked around to the rear of the truck with Nicol.

The two men released the catches on the tailgate and then gently lowered it downwards. Nicol jumped up onto the load-bed and he threw back the green load cover. Naomi's eyes went wide as she saw two large pallets stacked with large bags of something.

"What is all that?" Naomi asked.

"Kibble."

"What?"

"Your Mum says you need to change your diet," Nicol chuckled as he began to offload the twelve-kilogramme bags, passing them down to Jasper and Martin who piled them on the ground.

..._...

The men offloaded sixteen of the massive bags before the pallets were cleared and then the two men moved further into the truck.

Naomi heard scuffling from inside the truck and she exchanged a quizzical look with her cousin. Then came the sound of breathing. Naomi and Kaitlin moved closer, peering up and into the darkness of the truck's load-bed. Then a snout appeared and something growled, then something else growled. Both girls jumped backwards, Kaitlin falling into Oliva who caught her. The two men reappeared, and each held a dog lead in their right hands. The animals, themselves, were peering off the load-bed and their snouts wrinkled as they snarled at the assembled people before them. But then, one of them, a handsome male with a thick grey/white and white coat, stopped snarling and the piercing blue eyes gazed at Cassie before the animal whined. Nicol passed the lead down to Cassie who stepped forwards.

"Down, Sasha," Cassie ordered, and the young dog easily jumped the three-feet to the ground before stopping beside Cassie and looking up at her.

Cassie stroked the dog who seemed very happy to see her. Kaitlin took one small step forward and the dog turned and put itself between the young girl and Cassie, growling menacingly. Kaitlin jumped backwards, fear written into her expression.

"Sasha!" Cassie ordered, and the dog stopped growling. "Naomi, Kaitlin, this is Sasha, he is our new pet. Naomi, step forward, slowly."

Naomi moved very slowly towards the dog who followed her every move. She slowly raised her right hand and the dog followed the movement. Then the dog put his head down and he allowed Naomi to gently pet him.

"He's soft," Naomi said with a smile.

"Kaitlin – very slowly," Cassie directed.

Kaitlin was very hesitant, but she stepped forwards and slowly raised her right hand. Sasha growled quietly, but he allowed Kaitlin to pet him along with Naomi.

"Sasha!" Cassie commanded, and the dog looked up at his mistress. "No eating the girls – unless they've been really bad."

Naomi and Kaitlin laughed, but they both looked uneasy. Jasper stepped forwards and he grabbed the lead from Martin as he called out to the other dog.

"Down, Nika!"

..._...

The other dog, a beautiful female with a thick white coat and a black saddle.

The eager brown eyes peered down at Jasper and the dog jumped down to stand beside her master who patted her on the head. Both animals were young, maybe a year old. Jasper turned to smile at Olivia, Jessica, and Christopher.

"Guys, meet Nika. She is _our_ pet."

"She going to eat me?" Jessica asked.

"Only if you're bad," Jasper chuckled, and the young girl scowled.

All three kids stepped forwards, very slowly. Nika stared directly into Olivia's eyes, but Olivia never faltered. She stared Nika down as she stepped forward and gently placed a hand on the dog's head. Her hand was quickly joined by Jessica's and Christopher's. The two dogs let out muffled woofs as they looked at each other.

"Go on," Jasper and Cassie directed, and the two dogs ran to say 'hello' to each other, their tails curving happily over their backs.

Along the way, they each allowed their respective masters and mistresses to stroke one another, unhindered – except for Kaitlin who was allowed to pet them both, but both animals growled at her touch.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

Jasper had taken his kids and Nika back home leaving Sasha to wander around the house, sniffing at everything and everything.

Cassie just left him to it and she suggested that the girls leave the dog alone, too. Kaitlin was only too happy to leave him alone as she was scared that she might get eaten.

"Now girls, we have a dog in the house, so there will be some new rules. So, if we have an animal in the house, we should do what?"

Naomi grinned facetiously as she looked down at her long-suffering cousin.

"If you have an animal in the house, you say: 'Kaitlin, sit! Kaitlin, bed!'," Naomi grinned.

Cassie tried not to laugh as Kaitlin did not seem to see the funny side and she stormed off up the stairs. But before Cassie could remonstrate with Naomi, they both heard a yell, and they both recognised Kaitlin's dulcet tones. Naomi bolted for the stairs with Cassie close behind. The focal point for the noise was the girls' bedroom. They found Kaitlin yelling at the top of her voice.

"You bad dog! How dare you touch her! How dare you rip her head off! You – are – a – bad – dog! Get! Go on – get!"

Sasha came out of the bedroom at speed and he had his tail firmly between his legs and his expression was one of extreme guilt. The dog hid behind Cassie's legs and whined. Cassie and Naomi walked into the bedroom to find a miserable-looking Kaitlin sitting on the bedroom floor, her Princess Twilight Sparkle pony in two pieces, the head evidently having been forcibly removed from the body. Tears flooded down the eight-year-old's cheeks and even Naomi did not dare make a nasty remark. They both knew how much Kaitlin loved her toy stuffed pony.

"Kaitlin," Cassie said, but Kaitlin got to her feet, threw the remains of her pony to the floor and then ran off down the stairs.

Cassie looked down at the equally miserable dog and she just shook her head.

..._...

Kaitlin was beside herself with sadness and anger.

First, the dog growled at her and then it destroyed the most special thing she owned. She was fuming. Her mind filled with ways to harm the dog, but Kaitlin refused to contemplate them any further as she loved animals far too much to hurt them. She was a _Predator_ and _Predators_ only hurt humans, not animals. Kaitlin heard movement and she looked up from her corner of the paddock where she sat. There, just a few yards away from her stood Sasha. The dog looked miserable and repentant. However, in his mouth, he held both parts of the destroyed pony. Kaitlin scowled at the dog who moved closer, paw by paw, then dropped the pony to the grass. Sasha looked at Kaitlin and whined. The dog then used his nose to push the remains of the pony towards Kaitlin. He pushed the pony sections right up against Kaitlin's right leg before he lay down and rested his head on Kaitlin's right thigh. The big blue eyes gazed upwards, full of sorrow . . . and hope.

Kaitlin tried to be angry with the dog, but she realised that it was not his fault, he was only young. She also realised that Sasha was doing everything he could to try and say sorry in the only way he knew. Kaitlin rested her right hand on the dog's head and he whined for a moment before he licked Kaitlin's face. Sasha waited for the heavens to fall on him, but when they did not, he licked her twice more. Kaitlin giggled, and she smiled down at the dog as he rolled onto his back and Kaitlin gently rubbed his tummy. The powerful tail thumping on the ground told Kaitlin that Sasha was pleased he had been forgiven.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Sasha, but you did something wrong. I promise not to yell at you again, okay?"

Sasha licked her again, causing more giggles.

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

The three kids were over the moon – they had a dog!

Jasper was driving Lynn's Land Rover Discovery instead of his customary Jaguar XJ. That was because of the one-year-old female dog who sat happily in the boot, staring out the back. Nika was a beautiful animal and the youngsters had instantly fallen in love with her. Olivia had asked the obvious question.

"Sasha and Nika are attack dogs, right?"

"Yes, Olivia, they are," Jasper replied.

"They will be part of _Vengeance_?" Christopher asked.

"Yes – their skills will be very welcome," Jasper confirmed as they turned into the drive.

"Lynn, we have a dog!" Olivia exclaimed as Lynn came out to meet them.

"I can see that," Lynn commented as Jasper opened the rear hatch and Nika bounded out. "Hi, Nika!"

With a reassuring glance at Jasper, Nika approached Lynn and sniffed at her outstretched hand. Nika's tail started wagging and Lynn received a sloppy 'kiss' to her hand. The kids ran onto the front lawn, calling Nika to chase them. There was a lot of screaming and barking as the two girls, one boy, and a dog ran riot.

Lynn and Jasper were very pleased with their new dog.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

It was all business as _Vengeance_ came back online.

The new computer systems were up and running. They were better and faster than previously while still being connected to the superior systems in Chicago. Q was feverishly preparing systems for the night's activities. Each vigilante received new communications packs for their combat suits – they were cutting edge and were as secure as secure communications systems got.

"Even the US Military doesn't get anything this good," Q chuckled. "Okay – we have a government tasking, direct from COBRA," he went on. "Crimson and Sleuth will be visiting an ex-government minister who is soon going to be ex-living."

"Funny," Crimson chuckled.

"As for the rest of you," Eric continued, "We have a patrol in Glasgow – there is a new something or other in the city. Looks like another vigilante, so find out what it is and if it can be brought under our control."

"Drift will be handling the Glasgow trip," Nemesis announced. "He has suggested that Ajax may like to ride pillion."

There was a muted squeal which sounded like Ajax approved! Nemesis chuckled.

"I will be out, too, with Stripe, Glide, and Prowl," Nemesis went on. "We're taking _Sabre_."

Stripe did not appear very happy with the arrangement.

"Just think, Stripe," Prowl commented. "You can stare at Ajax's bottom all night."

Stripe scowled at the young girl, but he grinned when he heard a giggle from Ajax. He vanished off to ensure that his girl was ready for the night's action.

..._...

The thirteen-year-old girl could not believe what was happening.

Her new combat suit had arrived that very morning by courier. Cassie and Naomi had helped her dress that evening. They had provided her with some comfortable black underclothes and a dark grey undersuit which fitted her body perfectly and felt like a second skin. The undersuit weighed very little and it allowed the skin to breathe during extreme activities; it was also stab and bullet resistant to Type IIA standards.

The actual combat suit was full-body and made up of sections. The modular contoured armour, in navy-blue with a broad silver trim, clipped onto the undersuit and joined to the other sections of armour to form a semi-rigid Type II and Type IIIA armour that covered the important parts of the human body. The Type IIIA armour covered the chest and upper back. The armour was ultra-flexible and ultra-light which suited the teenaged vigilante. The full-face mask was fitted with an anti-lift feature as well as being fitted with the standard voice changing technology as used by the other members of _Vengeance_. Ajax's mask was primarily navy-blue, but it was marked out in silver to resemble a Trojan helmet with protective sections covering her cheekbones and nose. For intimidation purposes, the eyes of the mask glowed a dull red. Atop the mask, a short plume of red ran from the top of her forehead over her head and down to her neck. A lightweight black utility belt trimmed with silver was fitted with a compact, integrated encrypted communications system. Ajax carried a pair of Glock 19 Gen4 pistols in nine-millimetre in holsters on either thigh with six spare fifteen-round magazines mounted around the back of her utility belt. To protect her hands, a set of armoured gauntlets were supplied. They had silver backs, while the palms and fingers were black. On her back, she carried a Roman gladius sword in a scabbard along with a short pilum which fitted into the same scabbard.

It was still early days for the girl and she had a lot of training ahead of her and there was still the opportunity to add other weapons.

..._...

Drift was ready, astride his Triumph Tiger Sport.

Ajax pulled on her motorcycle helmet and was shown how to mount the rear of the motorcycle. Stripe held up his right hand, his thumb extended. Ajax held on tightly with her arms around Drift's waist. She was nervous as hell but she was really looking forward to her night out in Glasgow. Behind her, Stripe climbed into the front passenger seat of the armoured Range Rover Sentinel known as _SABRE_. Prowl and Glide climbed into back while Nemesis jumped into the front seat. Beside _SABRE_ , Sleuth and Crimson climbed aboard a twin vehicle known as _SCIMITAR_.

" _Vengeance_ , roll out!" Q ordered.


	50. Storm

**_Saturday, November 12th, 2016_**

 ** _Glasgow_**

The night was cold, and it was dark, as was usual for the time of year.

Three young women prepared themselves for a night out on the town but with very different expectations. The two sisters, each wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, helped each other to strategically apply makeup to their faces as they made crude comments about what the night might entail depending on what sort of young men the two girls came into contact with that night.

Elsewhere in the city, another young woman, of indeterminate age, but somewhere between seventeen and nineteen, prepared herself for the night's exploits. She pulled on a pair of tight but flexible black jeans and secured them with a black leather belt. Over her black sports bra went a dark green, long-sleeved, hooded top. Both the top and the jeans accentuated the young woman's figure which was full and curvaceous. After pulling on a pair of dark blue socks, she pushed her feet into a pair of light-weight, black leather, heeled ankle boots. After adding some other accoutrements to her outfit, she pulled on a black leather jacket and a custom designed mask which covered the area around her hazel eyes. The mask was skin-tight and black. Her long, dark brown hair was secured in a ponytail high on the back of her head. After a short look in a mirror to confirm that her outfit was complete, she flipped up her hood and dived out of an open window and down a conveniently placed fire escape.

The young woman was looking to settle some scores that night.

..._...

The two other women were looking to score that night, only their idea of scoring was very different.

Every Saturday night was the same; they went out, got drunk, and hoped to wake up next to some perfect male specimen – well, they could dream! They began their night on St Vincent Street at a bar, downing various combinations of alcoholic concoctions. Neither had any inhibitions when it came to drink – after all, that was what life was about when you were young; having fun. They met a couple of nice guys and they laughed and giggled their way through the late evening and into the night. None of the guys were very appealing and they all fell by the wayside, leaving the two girls, Julia and Nicola, to entertain themselves as they went from bar to club to bar.

Their intoxication was well past anything which would allow the girls to protect themselves from seemingly innocuous events . . . such as the fact that they were being followed.

* * *

 ** _Fifty miles to the east  
Edinburgh_**

The man had just finished his dinner when there came a knock the door.

He frowned – who could be knocking so late at night? He arose from his comfortable chair and walked across his living room and out into the hallway. He could see a single shape beyond the frosted glazing of his front door. For a moment, he felt concern for his safety, but then he remembered that he was an MSP – a Member of the Scottish Parliament – and pretty much untouchable. He pulled open the door, ensuring that the security chain was secured.

"Yes?"

"Robert Finch?"

"Yes."

"Security Service. May I come in, please?"

Robert Finch examined the proffered identity card – it was genuine – and he figured it was something of great importance, considering the late hour. He released the security chain and opened the door. In stepped a tall man with an air of authority wearing a smart suit and overcoat. Once the door was secure, the man turned to Finch.

"I am Jasper Collins, Finch, and I am here to collect on behalf of the Prime Minister."

* * *

 ** _Glasgow_**

The armoured Range Rover, known as _SABRE_ , tended to blend into the darkness of the city as it drove around the streets, attracting very little attention.

Drift and Ajax kept to the plentiful back alleyways of Scotland's biggest city, avoiding the drunken revellers as they kept to the often-darkened accesses between the tall buildings. They came across all sorts. A woman allowing her self to be fucked stupid by her boyfriend.

"Ewww!" Ajax commented.

The pair found couples almost comatose with alcohol or drugs – they requested Q to dial 999 for those people – as they rode across the uneven cobbles and random sections of rough tarmac, avoiding the prevalent potholes which were a key, if unpleasant, feature to the roads of the sprawling city. The motorcycle easily handled the rough streets as Drift expertly manoeuvred around the obstacles laid out before him.

"There!" Ajax almost shouted.

"Would you like to tell my surviving eardrum what you just saw?" Drift asked.

"Sorry . . . I just saw something cross the alleyway behind us – it was black and hooded. That's all I saw, sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You saw something which piqued your interest and you reported it – that was good. Don't second-guess yourself . . . Q?"

"Hello, Mr Drift, how may I help you, this fine night?" Q responded from the Command Centre.

"Q – Ajax saw a hooded figure heading south behind us – you got anything?"

Q quickly ran through available CCTV images from around Drift's location, then he froze an image. He was looking at the image of a hooded individual, dressed all in black.

"I have an image of a hooded figure, dressed all in black. I think it's a young woman. I have her making for the river, veering east."

"Thanks, Q."

* * *

 ** _Edinburgh_**

Robert Finch felt a chill shoot up his backbone and he shuddered for a moment before turning to run.

"I would not run if I were you," a ghastly electronic voice suggested.

Robert Finch stopped dead as he found himself looking into the face of a _Vengeance_ vigilante, who had just emerged from his kitchen. Finch found himself shepherded into his living room and he fell back into his comfortable chair. He discovered his hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out was going on. The man from MI5 stepped forward before he stopped a few feet away from Finch. As the man, Collins, stood before him, Finch noticed the leather gloves for the first time – they somehow unnerved him even further. The vigilante stood a few feet away, clad in crimson body armour – it was a woman, he noticed.

"What is it that you want?" Finch demanded as he attempted to take control of the situation.

"What we want," Jasper explained coldly, "is for you to die. You have betrayed this country. You are a traitor to the Crown and you should pay the ultimate penalty for your treason. Unfortunately, we can no longer have you publicly flogged through the streets of London, nor can we have you hung by the neck until you were almost dead, before having your innards and genitals removed, and then burned before your traitorous eyes. You would then be hacked into four and your head removed. Unfortunately, the Prime Minister forbade such treatment, although I understand that there were some ready volunteers amongst the ranks of _Vengeance_ and the Royal Marines."

All colour drained from Finch's face.

"So, I will be arrested and tried?" he offered hopefully.

"In your dreams, you fucking traitor," the vigilante growled.

"I am a Member of the Scottish Parliament, and if anything should happen to me, then there would be an investigation . . ."

"Let me stop you there," Jasper cut in as he produced a pair of small plastic phials, one blue and the other green. "I'm glad you brought that up. This substance remains in your system for mere minutes before metabolizing and vanishing. It is the very latest in binary compounds. Both parts are so innocuous as to be all but unreadable during an autopsy examination, yet combined, they kill within two seconds before vanishing from the target's bloodstream."

Jasper twisted off the top of the first single-use plastic phial, and he squeezed out the contents into Finch's partially drunk glass of whiskey. That was quickly followed by the contents of the second phial. Jasper pocketed the pair of phials before indicating the glass.

"Fancy a drink, Finch?"

"You can't do this. . ."

Crimson stepped forwards, an ominously sharp blade in her hand.

"We can, and we will," she growled.

With a brief look around his living room, Finch picked up the glass of whiskey with a shaking hand and he downed the lot in one gulp. Jasper swiftly caught the glass as Finch braced up for a moment and grasped at his heart, dropping the glass. By the time Jasper had returned the glass to the table beside the comfortable chair, Robert Finch was dead. Jasper looked up at Crimson who stowed her knife and headed outside.

" _Vengeance_ , this is Sleuth – target eliminated."

* * *

 ** _Glasgow_**

It had been an enjoyable few hours.

They were very drunk and very giggly. Men and boys alike were shouting crude comments at the young women as they headed back to Central Station for the train ride home. Maybe their chosen route was not the best choice, but it was the most direct. Unfortunately, for the two young women, their fate was sealed the moment that they turned down that alleyway.

Not only _their_ fate but also that of another.

..._...

Apart from some overexcited boys being driven by their dicks, the young woman in the black hooded top was not troubled.

One glance into the shadows beneath her hood was generally enough to encourage even the most rampant male ego to seek a woman elsewhere. Her expression was one of death and most who saw it vied away. During her evening, she had kicked the crap out of two idiots who had been all but molesting a young girl around their own age. It looked like it had begun as a harmless game but then escalated as the boys' sexual wants had quickly clouded their judgement. Otherwise, it had been a remarkably peaceful evening. It had not exactly hurt her situation that Vengeance had vanished off the face of the earth for a few weeks and after a few attacks of her own, stories had begun to filter through the party-goers, out for a night's action. She had heard the rumours herself of a black-hooded figure who stalked the alleyways of Glasgow at the dead of night. Some said it was some long-forgotten ghost from a hundred years before – but that was just the story being embellished as it passed from mouth to mouth. However, one thing stayed the same – you met the black-hooded figure and you rarely survived the contact should you be misbehaving.

The woman had seen the drunken girls a few times, that evening. For the moment, she stayed with them, watching their antics as they laughed and giggled their way back to the station and hopefully home to a safe night's sleep and a hangover the following morning. The two giggling girls appeared to know where they were going, but they had picked a none-to-clever route to get to their intended destination. The pair were telling crude jokes and making cruder comments about the men and boys whom they had met that evening.

"He looked like he was twelve and his dick must have been tiny – he hadn't a fucking hope."

"He said he was sixteen – no fucking chance!"

"What about that dickhead who tried to get you to give him a blowjob – he was fuckin' manky."

"I have my bastard standards, Julia!"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't have been the first time you dropped your scratty knickers in a back alley for a quick fuck! Hey, what's that?"

The two girls stopped dead on a dreary street which stank of rubbish from a nearby wheelie-bin and where several of the street lights were not actually functioning. The girls, despite their drunkenness, instantly sensed danger.

"We're down the wrong street, girl," Nicola stated.

"Not necessarily," a voice chuckled. "You two gals may be just what we're lookin' for."

Three men appeared out of the shadows, two smoking cigarettes. All appeared to be in their very late teens or their early twenties, and none of them seemed to be worried about the girls' safety. They moved to ensure that the girls had no way to escape. Julie and Nicola were suddenly feeling very sober as all their happiness rapidly vanished and fear moved in.

"What do you want?" Nicola demanded.

"I want something juicy and wet for my giant cock to slip into, bitch," the obvious leader of the group responded as he grasped his manhood. "I'm itching to fuck somethin'."

"Well, go fuck yourself!" Julia offered angrily.

The three men chuckled as one moved forwards and slapped Julia around the face. Julia screamed as she fell to the damp tarmac. Nicola moved to help her friend, but she was grasped around the waist and forced to the tarmac. She screamed as she felt hands on her groin. She could not reach those hands as she fought against other hands which had grasped her wrists, holding them above her head. Then, as she felt the coldness of the damp tarmac on her bare bottom and the breeze through her pubic hair, she looked up as the leader began to shove down his trousers and then his underwear. He was grinning, and Nicola felt fear like she had never felt before as the man, his penis sticking out, made to kneel down between her legs, but he hesitated as a voice called out from behind him.

"You call that a 'giant cock'?" the voice jeered. "I've seen bigger on a twelve-year-old!"

"What the fuck?" the leader demanded as he turned around.

Nicola had no idea what was going on, but Julia screamed as something hard collided with something not quite as hard and there was a yell of pain followed by the sound of something hitting the tarmac. Then her wrists were suddenly released as she heard men yelling. Nicola sat up, pulling her legs together and hugging her knees. She looked up and she was amazed to see one of the men on the ground, blood oozing from a head wound; he looked to be the leader as he was naked from the waist down. A black hooded-form was fighting the other two men with a pair of what looked like wooden sticks. The men had drawn large knives, not that they seemed to be having an edge as they were being repeatedly struck again and again. As Nicola and Julia watched, first one, and then the second man was put done hard – neither man moved once they hit the tarmac. The hooded-figure came closer and knelt down beside them. She spoke a few words, telling them her name and that they were safe, but she could say no more as there was the roar of a powerful engine when a large vehicle turned into the street.

The girls turned back to look at their saviour, but she was gone.

..._...

Nicola and Julia remained frozen as the large black 4x4 pulled to a stop a few feet away.

Doors opened, and four individuals in body armour stepped out. They were heavily armed, and they scanned the area for any more trouble. The tallest came over to the two girls.

"Are you both okay?"

"Yes – she stopped the attack before anything could happen," Julia explained as she was helped to her feet by Nicola.

"Who was she? Did she say anything?" Nemesis asked.

"She said her name was 'Storm' . . . and that we were safe."

"Storm?"

The two girls nodded.

* * *

 ** _Forty minutes later_**

It had taken a while to find Storm on the CCTV cameras and track her.

For Storm, it was a bad end to an otherwise successful evening protecting the city. She had not realised that _Vengeance_ was back on the streets and seeing one of their armoured vehicles happen upon her so quickly after a fight, had unnerved the young woman. She had watched as four vigilantes had checked out the unconscious men and the two women – at least they were safe. She had to get out of the city, and fast. She figured that she was being tracked via the CCTV. She was not equipped to just dive into a building and remove her disguise and mask – she figured that _Vengeance_ was too much on the ball for that to succeed. Her true identity was all that she had, so she would guard that with her life. Storm ran down A street, east of Central Station, racing for the shadows and relative safety of the east end of Glasgow.

Ahead of her, the same large black 4x4 turned into the street, lights ablaze. Storm hated being in so much light which, in her mind, just made her into a target. She darted down the nearest alleyway where she quickly ground to a halt. It was a fucking trap! She found herself facing three _Vengeance_ vigilantes. One was a tallish male while the others were shorter females. Storm was under no illusion that their size meant that they were unskilled. She turned to run but she found her path blocked by another vigilante – this one a taller female with a red plume on her head. Her eyes also glowed red in the semi-darkness which was menacing in itself. Another vigilante appeared – a man.

"We mean you no harm, Storm," the man explained in his electronically enhanced voice. "Your identity is your own. All we want is to be able to coordinate with you. We like what you are doing, Storm, and we will not stand in your way. I promise that you can trust us."

Storm never lowered her guard as she listened. Could it be a trick? She knew enough about _Vengeance_ to know that it was not in any way territorial. She also knew enough to know that _Vengeance_ was not to be trifled with. However, if they had wanted her dead, then she would be dead. Ultimately, she had no choice but to do what they asked.

"Okay," she replied. "What happens now?"

"We have been away," Drift replied. "But we are back. You can continue about your business, for the moment, but do not interfere in any of our operations. I would also advise you to take direction from a member of _Vengeance_. We will not interfere with what you are doing unless it upsets one of our own operations. If we can, we will notify you ahead of time, of our operations. It would be good to be able to communicate with you, but I leave that up to you. Good night, Storm."

With that, the vigilantes remounted their vehicles and they left her standing in the alleyway.

* * *

 ** _Later that night_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Two very tired young girls literally fell into their beds.

Cassie grinned as they both fell asleep almost instantly as they snuggled down under their duvets. Beside her, Sasha stood watching. He looked up at Cassie who nodded at the Gerberian Shepsky. Sasha stepped into the bedroom and then looked from bed to bed for a moment before he jumped up onto Kaitlin's bed and curled up at the bottom, beyond the little girl's feet. Cassie left the two girls and one dog sleeping before retiring to her own bedroom.

"They asleep?" Andrew asked.

"Yes, they are," Cassie replied as she shrugged off her clothing until she was completely naked.

"Very nice," Andrew commented as Cassie slipped under the duvet beside her fiancé.

Cassie giggled as hands began to touch her body and her lips kissed his.

* * *

 ** _The following morning_**

 ** _Sunday, November 13th_**

Cassie groaned as she rolled over in the bed.

She had slept well, after almost an hour of carnal enjoyment. She had awoken just then to her right nipple responding to a gentle caressing. By the time she opened her eyes, the nipple was hard, and her left nipple was being brought to the same state.

"Morning, gorgeous."

"Why are my nipples sticking out?"

"I thought that they should be just as hard as I am, my love."

Cassie giggled as she felt around with her left hand under the duvet before finding something else which was very, very hard. She moaned as she felt a hand pushing through her pubic hair and manipulating her labia. Damn, she wanted him so badly. She felt her legs spreading without conscious thought and she shuddered to his gentle touch. His lips moved from her own down to her breasts, kissing them and then nibbling each nipple in turn. She felt the pulses of arousal shooting through her body as her lover and fiancé rolled on top of her. She gasped as he pushed deep inside of her, then gently thrusting in and out, increasing speed and Cassie wrapped her arms around his body, pulling him closer as she kissed him. She looked up into his brown eyes filled with love. She moaned again at the thought of how much the man loved her. Andrew kissed her again and again, rising up onto his muscular arms as he continued to thrust again and again. Cassie entangled her fingers into the hair on his chest, tugging and then pressing hard against that chest as she felt the orgasm building and building before she knew that she could not take any more. Then she felt the red-hot liquid exploding inside of her as Andrew came and came.

Then she herself screamed out as the orgasm overtook her and she was paralysed with the sensations which attempted to tear her body apart.

* * *

 ** _That same time_**

Kaitlin came awake with a start.

She looked around the bedroom, trying to identify what had awoken her. But she saw nothing untoward; Naomi was fast asleep, murmuring to herself, and Sasha was curled up at the foot of the bed, his tail gently moving from side to side.

"Did you wake me?" she asked gently.

Sasha moved up the bed and licked Kaitlin's outstretched hand, eliciting a giggle from the young girl.

* * *

 ** _A short time later_**

Cassie heard a scream – for a change she recognised it as Naomi's scream.

Nonetheless, she made for the sound, wondering what trouble the two girls had conjured up that had resulted in the normally non-screaming Naomi, screaming. Cassie found Kaitlin laughing in the girls' bathroom and on following her gaze, she found Naomi in the shower, covered in soap and shampoo, looking very annoyed. Naomi simply pointed at her feet. On looking down, Cassie found a very wet Sasha, who was curled up in the bottom of the shower, attempting to lap up the streams of hot water.

"He just burst in and almost sent me flying!" Naomi explained indignantly.

Cassie laughed for a moment before looking directly at the miscreant dog.

"Sasha!"

Sasha obediently looked up at Cassie and woofed before stepping out of the shower. Kaitlin, wrapped in just a towel from her own shower, screamed as Sasha shrugged off the copious amounts of water in his thick coat. Cassie laughed as the dog walked out of the bathroom and headed out onto the landing towards the stairs.

"Get dressed, girls; breakfast will be ready soon," Cassie pointed out.

..._...

As was usual on a Sunday, Alexandra Perrin had cooked a full English breakfast – with black pudding, of course.

The two girls were ravenous when they appeared in the kitchen. First, though, Kaitlin gave Andrew a big hug before moving onto Cassie and then Alexandra. Naomi did the same but in a more mature manner. They all sat down to enjoy enormous platefuls of hot food. Alexandra loved to cook, and she loved to have a full house. It always worried her when they went out as their alter egos, but she knew that it was unavoidable. It was the same as when her husband went off to sea; she would worry about if she would ever see him again. She was very pleased for her youngest daughter with her little family. The girls were lovely, despite what they had been trained to be. She also approved of Andrew who loved Cassie dearly as well as the two little girls who would, in due course, become his daughters.

"Kaitlin!"

"Yeees."

"Stop feeding Sasha under the table – he has had his breakfast," Alexandra responded. "Sasha – bed!"

The dog dived out from under the table and dived into his capacious bed located in a corner of the kitchen. His tail wagged from side to side as his eyes sparkled while he watched everybody eat. He had enjoyed the bacon that Kaitlin had given him.

Kaitlin grinned as she continued eating.

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Both Keira and Harper were very happy.

The joint dream of the other night had been a surprise and it had been wonderful to find out that both could remember everything. It was like their parents were back in their lives – it had all felt so real. Keira would visit her little sister when she could, but Harper was happy to have her space. She would spend her days talking with Diana or Scarlett. That afternoon, however, there was an argument going on across the corridor and the ever-inquisitive Harper hobbled off to investigate.

"No . . . I don't want to go."

It was Diana's voice and she sounded very upset. For a change, it was Harper who was listening at the door, instead of Diana.

"I'm sorry, Diana, but it is out of my hands. You are healed and therefore you have to leave until you are called for your prosthesis."

It was Doctor Schneider.

"Please . . . I like it here. I feel safe."

"I know you do, Diana. I will miss you, very much."

Harper could hear the tears coming for the distressed girl on the other side of the door. She would miss Diana, too. Diana was a big help when Harper endured her nightly nightmares. Diana would come through and they would talk – not that Harper could go into her nightmares in detail; they were partially classified! Harper hated those nightmares. She would wake up covered in sweat and often screaming. The nightmares were vivid and would focus on everything bad which had happened over the previous weeks. That had also included Scarlett and her dismemberment. On top of the torture nightmares, she now endured nightmares where she lost a hand, an arm, a leg. It was all so very real and scared her to death.

Harper retreated back to her bed, wondering what, if anything, she could do to help the orphaned Diana Price.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle, Scotland_**

"Why aren't you wearing a bra?" Kaitlin asked.

"I'm a little sore," Cassie explained briefly.

"Would that be Andrew's fingers on your nipples?" Naomi asked with a grin.

"Never you mind, young lady – how would you even know about such things?"

"I read things and I hear things," Naomi responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

"Are you blushing?" Kaitlin wanted to know.

"I blush when people start talking about my boobs, okay?"

Naomi giggled at Cassie's discomfort.

"Now, you two concentrate on what you are doing, please."

The two girls were in the paddock, wearing motorcycle leathers and boots, along with leather gloves and boots. They were practicing manoeuvres on their Honda motorcycles. Both girls were fully capable of riding their machines on most surfaces and were now learning some more of The Highway Code, so that they could ride safely – if not exactly legally, on the main roads. Kaitlin was surprisingly careful and agile when it came to riding the motorcycle and she had impressed the adults. Naomi was good, but she tended to try and ride too fast from time to time. Both could ride in formation with Cassie and Cameron without any issues. They could also ride one-handed, allowing their other hand to operate a weapon of some sort. They were all steps towards them both being allowed to ride operationally with _Vengeance_. Both girls were also learning some maturity and that often resulted in some pleasant days with little mayhem.

That day, Andrew Bedford sat on a fence watching his fiancé and his future children ride around the various obstacles. The previous weeks had taught him much about his fiancé. He had discovered that the young woman he loved, who had just turned twenty, two days previously, was a real-life vigilante with very real 'notches' in her gun belt. Was he concerned? A little. Did he care? Not really; he knew that she was out there risking her life for the good of the country. He worried about her, but he had seen her combat suit, and he knew that she was well protected. He also knew that arguing with Cassandra Perrin was generally a waste of time. As for the little terrors – they were adorable if you ignored what they were trained to be. Kaitlin was fragile – despite how she tried to behave – and she needed to be loved and cared for. Naomi was only slightly less fragile and despite her attempts at maturity, she also needed to be loved and cared for. Cassie was a perfect role model for the young girls and he hoped that he would be too. Both girls were a handful, but he enjoyed a challenge, and while he would have loved a son, the two girls were the next best thing, considering their tomboy behaviour.

Andrew laughed as Kaitlin somehow managed to ride directly into a hay bale, resulting in Sasha bolting to the rescue.

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

Olivia Kensington lay on the floor of the living room beside Nika.

The thirteen-year-old was busy telling Nika all about her trip to Glasgow the previous evening. Nika actually seemed to be listening, although she would have preferred to be playing rather than listening to a story. Nonetheless, the dog was enjoying her new life with her new family. Nika was rescued from her forced story-time by Jessica who came in and began to pet the dog who soon rolled onto her back, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Olivia scowled as she gave up telling Nika all about the new vigilante known as 'Storm'. Then Nika growled as Olivia's new mobile phone began to vibrate across the living room floor. Jessica got to it first.

"It's lover boy!" she advised the room. "Time for phone sex!"

"Jessica!" Olivia growled as she seized her phone. "Hi, Craig. . ."

"Hope the phone's water-tight," Jessica laughed as her sister vanished upstairs to her bedroom. "I'm sure she uses it as a vibrator."

"Jessica!" Lynn exclaimed.

"Just pointing out the obvious," Jessica commented as she went back to rubbing Nika's tummy.

"Don't be nasty, Jessica. You know, full well, that Olivia suffered very badly. She was humiliated before all of you. Would you have enjoyed being stripped naked before a large group of people, including boys, then handcuffed and frog-marched below to a holding cell?" Lynn challenged.

"No," Jessica replied. "I didn't mean that."

"Think, before you speak, please."

Jessica felt slightly jealous of her older sibling – but only so far. She wanted what she had; a hot boyfriend and to be going out with _Vengeance_. There were times that she hated having a big sister, but there were also times that she was glad to have her there for support.

"Jess?"

"Yeah, Chris."

"You want to come walk Nika?"

Nika jumped up enthusiastically, shoving Jessica out the way.

"Coming," Jessica called as she got back to her feet.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Diana blundered in that evening.

"Hello, Diana," Harper grinned as she dug into her bowl of porridge – yes, it was evening, but Harper was on a limited diet.

"I've finally figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Harper asked as she rolled her eyes.

"I know what you are . . ."

"A girl?" Harper interrupted with a slight snigger.

Diana did not look amused although she was obviously bursting to say something amazing.

"I know what you are," she repeated, and Harper's eyes narrowed.

"What do you _think_ you know?" Harper asked guardedly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Diana took a deep breath before she spoke.

"I think that you are a vigilante, Harper Sharp, and I think you are part of _Vengeance_."


	51. The Vigilante

**_Sunday, November 13th, 2016_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

"You do realise that you may have just signed your own death warrant, don't you?" Harper challenged.

"So, you admit it?" Diana asked tentatively.

"I can neither confirm nor deny any affiliation with said group of illegal vigilantes," Harper went on.

"Which government manual did you get _that_ out of?" Diana asked with a sarcastic grin.

Harper grinned.

"We know you aren't stupid, Diana, but you are sticking your nose into where it does not belong," Keira pointed out. "Again."

"I'm sorry – I just . . . my mind enjoys putting things together and figuring out problems."

"Yeah – she reads puzzle books, all day long!" Doctor Schneider commented from the doorway. "So – she knows?"

"Seems so," Keira commented.

"I promise not to say anything to anybody – I just can't help myself when it comes to puzzles," Diana tried.

"You had better keep your damn mouth shut," Harper growled, "or those missing legs will be the very least of your fucking problems."

"A little harsh," Diana responded indignantly as she wheeled herself out of the room without a backward glance.

* * *

 ** _That same evening_**

 ** _The Dollar Academy  
Dollar, Scotland_**

For Electra, it was like she had entered a foreign country.

While Mary was no longer suffering the, 'Ooh, a Princess' thing, she was still a talking point, much to her annoyance. Appearing part way through the term, having vanished for a few weeks was also a talking point. Naturally, Ginny was two feet away, ensuring that nobody caused any problem – not that they would; they all knew Ginny and gave her a wide berth. While the exact details had been kept secret, it was well-known that Kensington Palace had been attacked, and many of the pupils at the academy knew that Mary lived at Kensington Palace. There were many questions, but one look from Ginny dissuaded them all. The only person allowed close to Mary was Leia Whiteford. Leia was Mary's best friend and the girl with whom Mary lived, sharing a two-bed bedsit in Argyll House. Mary was bundled off to her room by Ginny and Leia while Electra was taken by the House Master to her own room.

Electra's eyes flew all over, watching and absorbing everything as she was led up some stairs, then along two corridors before they stopped outside a white door with the number '9' on it. The House Master, Peter Rodney knocked and waited.

"Yo!" came a voice and Mr Rodney chuckled as he pushed the door open.

"Sorry, Electra – not the way we usually allow somebody into our room."

Electra found herself in a room with three beds, three desks, a window, and two young girls.

"Electra, please meet your roommates: Alyssia Whiteford, and Janette Cunningham. Girls, this is Electra Haig, and she will be occupying the third berth in here."

"Hi, Electra."

"Welcome, Electra."

"Hello," Electra replied with a wave of her hand.

"Electra, the girls will make you feel welcome and help you unpack and show you what is where. I'll leave you to settle in for tonight, and I will see you after lessons, tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir."

..._...

Electra was feeling a little overwhelmed as she unpacked her clothing and personal effects.

"You've got a new bed," Alyssia commented. "It only arrived last week – didn't see a problem with the last one, to be honest."

Electra grinned to herself – the bed was special. It matched the other pair and had storage underneath which was accessed by lifting up the base on which the mattress sat on a pneumatic lift. After half an hour of feverish unpacking, there came a knock on the door.

"Yo!" Alyssia called out and Janette rolled her eyes.

"Ignore her – it's her current 'thing'!" Janette explained.

Electra was pleased to see Mary appear, with her friend, Leia.

"Hi, Electra. I see you've met Leia's little sister, Alyssia," Mary said.

"Yeah – she and Janette are making me feel welcome."

"You know the Princess?" Janette asked.

"We're friends," Electra explained.

"Watch out, Alyssia's a bit nuts," Mary hinted, and Leia nodded her agreement.

"Thanks!" Alyssia laughed.

"Ignore them, Electra," Janette grinned. "Come on, I'll show you around."

* * *

 ** _Three days later  
Wednesday, November 16th_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

The goodbyes had been tearful, to say the least.

Despite many seeing Diana as an annoyance, they were all unhappy to see her go. None more than Harper – she found Diana annoying, but the girl was also a breath of fresh air in a place which was decidedly depressing by its very being.

"I'm actually sorry to see you go," Scarlett commented. "You're a major pain in the backside and I _so_ want to slap you, but you helped build a bridge between me and Harper. That is something which I can never thank you for. You stay safe, Diana Price."

"I do what I can," Diana offered meekly.

"She has a point – even though it chokes me to say it," Harper commented dryly as she and Scarlett exchanged a scowl. "You've helped me come to terms with things, not to mention sticking your nose in where it does not fucking belong! But you've done good, Diana. Thanks for being a friend."

"I'm going to miss you both," Diana sobbed. "You're both certifiable, but you've both been my friend – thanks."

Harper held something out to Diana.

"Don't open it until you get to your new home. Your finger is the key."

"Thanks, Harper. I hope you get well and you can go home to your friends. They were really great. Hopefully, I will get a chance to have some friends just like yours."

It was Harper's turn to sob – she could not help it.

* * *

 ** _Friday, November 18th_**

 ** _The Dollar Academy  
Dollar, Scotland_**

Her first week had gone well, and she was settled in with her new friends.

It did not take long for people to learn that Electra was a good friend of the Princess and that kind of elevated Electra in the eyes of the other pupils. They also left her alone as Ginny tended to be keeping a wary eye on her as well as her usual charge. Another reason for Electra to be left alone was her skills at Taekwondo – she was also the first who actually dared to put the Princess facedown on the mat. There had been loud exclamations, and many had expected Mary to yell and scream, but no, the Princess just got back to her feet and nodded to Electra. That gave Mary some kudos as many expected her to use her lineage as a barrier to harsh treatment. Secretly, Mary was glad that Electra had put her down as the other pupils now knew that it was safe to 'attack' the Princess – at least on the training mat.

Electra found the lessons a challenge, but nothing she could not handle, and she enjoyed them. The food was good and plentiful, so Electra was very happy. The other twenty-three girls, in the boarding house, varied in age from eight, all the way up to the eldest, a seventeen-year-old. It was like a large family and Electra was made to feel welcome by all. There were the usual tantrums from the younger girls and unhappy growling form the older ones, but it just added to the friendly atmosphere which Electra was enjoying.

The last educational facility at which she had boarded had not been so enjoyable.

* * *

 ** _Saturday, November 19th  
Early afternoon_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

The next few days were sad.

Harper had had no visitors – everybody was back in Scotland. That had included Mary who had gone back to school, taking Mary with her. Scarlett tended to be a little depressing when it came to talking, and Diana had provided a little bit of humour which was now totally missing. Even the medical staff and especially Doctor Schneider were showing signs of missing the cheery double amputee.

For Harper, three weeks of being cooped up in the same room was getting her down and without Diana to bring some sunshine into her room, she was feeling low. Keira felt for her sister but there was a limit to what she could do. Harper needed her friends, but she was not going to be leaving the hospital for at least another week. It was approaching time for Keira to be heading back to the Safehouse when her mobile rang. Without looking at the screen, Keira thumbed to accept the call.

 _"Is that Keira?"_

The voice was tearful and sounded scared.

"Diana?"

Keira checked the mobile and it was indeed the phone Harper had given Diana before she had left the hospital two days previously.

 _"I need . . . help . . . I hate it here."_

Diana began to sob uncontrollably for a full minute before understandable words could be heard again.

 _"They bully me. They call me names. They make fun of my having no legs. I . . . this boy he . . . he tried to . . ._ PLEASE! _"_

"I'm coming, Diana – stay strong, honey."

Keira disconnected the call and she went in search of Blake.

..._...

"Where did Diana go?" she demanded a few minutes later as she burst into the doctor's office.

"What?" the surprised man announced.

"She's in trouble – she just called me."

"She's in a care home – I have an address; it was out of my hands, Keira."

"I bet it was!" Keira growled as she pulled out her mobile and selected a contact.

The mobile rang a few times before it was answered.

 _"Sergeant Beck."_

"Beck, this is Keira Sharp. I need your help."

..._...

The red police BMW X5 cut through the London traffic like a hot knife through butter.

The screaming siren and flashing blue lights had everybody moving out of the way as Beck pushed his way towards Diana. Keira had only had to mention that a child was in danger for Beck and his partner, Ryder, to drop what they were doing and immediately make their way to the hospital to pick up Keira, who had dived into the rear of the large 4x4 the moment it had stopped. From there, the X5 had blazed a noisy trail through the heart of London, heading south, away from the River Thames. They negotiated the major Elephant & Castle junction, upsetting many London travellers, but they all gave way to the red emergency vehicle. Keira was on tenterhooks as the vehicle stopped and started with the heavy traffic.

The care home was in New Cross, a suburb in south London. It was very rare to see a red police vehicle of any kind in that part of London, let alone an X5 with flashing strobes and screaming siren. The large vehicle raced down side streets before coming to a very abrupt halt outside a four-storey block of flats. Beck and Ryder leapt out followed by Keira who ran past the two officers and up the concrete steps which led to the first floor. She raced along the balcony and stopped outside the door with '1-2' beside it. Keira pounded on the door with her left fist.

"Security Service, open up!"

The door was opened a minute later, and a large lady looked over the young woman and the two armed police officers, not to mention the red police vehicle with flashing blue lights visible a level below.

"What is this?" she demanded. "What have the little brats done now?"

"Where is Diana Price?" Keira demanded in return.

"What's the little bitch said now?" the irate woman retorted derisively.

Keira shoved the woman against a wall, her left forearm across the woman's throat.

"Last time! WHERE. . .?"

"KEIRA!"

Keira released the woman and bolted for the sound of the scream.

..._...

Keira ran down a short corridor passing several kids of varying ages to where a boy pointed out a room.

Keira tried the door – it was locked.

"KEIRA!"

The doorframe exploded as Keira took her right boot to the door near the lock. The door crashed against the wall with a loud bang. Diana was huddled in a corner while a boy of around fifteen advanced on her. The boy turned to Keira and he produced a knife from his pocket. By the time Beck reached the room, he was just in time to find the youth landing in a heap at his feet.

"He had this!" Keira growled as she held up the knife, before dropping it onto the single bed in the room.

Beck hauled the youth to his feet who suddenly found himself restrained in handcuffs and handed to Ryder.

"Get locals from Newlands to come get this piece of shit – attempted rape and assault with a deadly weapon," Beck directed as he turned back to the bedroom.

He found Keira over in the far corner talking to a sobbing girl of about eleven-years-old. The police officer immediately grabbed Keira's backpack and he began carefully folding and packing the girl's limited clothing and personal effects. The girl was leaving the shitty care home, one way or another. By the time Beck was finished, Keira had lifted Diana off the floor and she carried the girl out into the corridor.

"Locals are one minute out, and I've called Social Services," Ryder reported as he glared at the unrepentant woman who should have been looking after the children.

"Let's get the girl out of here," Beck directed as he made a path out of the flat, Diana's backpack under one arm and her wheelchair and crutches under another.

Ryder went to meet the local police who had arrived in three vehicles and they were briefed on the situation. Six very unimpressed police officers took over the scene and took custody of the handcuffed youth. As for Diana, she was placed in the back of the X5 and once all were aboard, Beck took off, heading north.

In the rear seat, Keira hugged Diana tightly as the girl sobbed tears of relief.

..._...

Forty minutes later, beck turned into Hyde Park Street and stopped sixty yards in.

Ryder carried everything up to the front door and he climbed back into the X5. Beck himself carried Diana out of the X5 and placed her into the waiting wheelchair. He handed the young girl one of his cards.

"You have any trouble while you are in London, you call me, you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Diana stammered.

"Thank you, Beck," Keira said.

"Give my regards to our mutual friend from Chicago," Beck replied as he returned to the X5.

"Where are we?" Diana asked.

"This," Keira replied as she pushed Diana inside and closing the door once she had retrieved the crutches and backpack, "is Safehouse Victor Lima – VL for short."

"This is a _Vengeance_ safehouse?!" Diana exclaimed in awe.

"Just don't go spreading it around, right?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Okay – your bedroom is right here, in the back, on the ground floor. It even has its own bathroom."

Diana smiled enormously for a moment before her smile faltered.

"What's going to happen to me?"

"You're staying with me."

"For how long?"

"I'd prefer it if you moved out soon after you turned eighteen."

* * *

 ** _Safehouse VY  
London_**

"So, this is where assassins live?"

"Funny, Blake," Keira chuckled as she waved Doctor Schneider into the house.

"Hi, Doc!"

"Hello, Diana. How are you doing?"

"It's great! I have my own room. It's on the ground floor, which is great, and I have my own bathroom. Keira says she'll take me shopping tomorrow for some clothes," came the excited response.

"You fancy a drink, Blake?" Keira asked.

"Please."

"Beer?"

"Perfect!"

..._...

While the adults talked, Diana enjoyed her new room.

There was a TV and a DVD player, plus dozens of DVD movies – some of which were _way_ beyond her age range. She selected a Hilary Duff movie and lay down on the bed. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. The hospital had been safe, but the safehouse made her feel safer and she knew that nothing could happen to her – not ever. She missed her daily chats with the doctors and nurses, not to mention the other patients. She missed Harper especially. Scarlett not so much, to be honest. She was also struggling a little with the abrupt changes in her life. First her family had died, and she lost both of her legs. Then she had somehow found herself amongst people she liked and who turned out to be vigilantes. That second one was a good thing after a bad thing. Then had come another bad thing – that care home, and the boy who had tried to do something bad to her. Then another good thing: she had been rescued and there she was, watching a DVD in a _Vengeance_ safehouse.

Wow – that was the only word that her mind could conjure up.

..._...

Around nine o'clock, Keira went to check on Diana who had gone uncharacteristically quiet.

She grinned as she found the youngster fast asleep on the bed, the DVD still playing. Keira pulled up a blanket from the foot of the bed and she laid it over the young girl. Keira sat beside Diana for a while as she considered everything that had happened and her part in things. Unwittingly, she had taken custody of the eleven-year-old girl with no legs. What would Harper say? Diana was a lovely girl and Harper liked her very much, but was she pushing things a bit; moving a bit too fast, maybe? It was enough of a struggle bringing up her wayward nine-year-old sister, but a disabled eleven-year-old!? Keira knew that she tended to make rash decisions from time to time, but she had surprised herself with how she had reacted to Diana being in trouble. It had taken all of her considerable willpower not to draw her Glock while at the care home.

"You, okay?"

Keira looked up at Blake.

"She's exhausted."

"She's happy and she feels safe."

"What am I doing, Blake?"

"You're doing the right thing from where I'm standing," Blake replied.

"I have a little sister who's hurt to look after – Harper comes first."

"Harper's past the worst of it. Her skin and bones are healing, and they will continue to heal. Give it six months and Harper will be back to her normal self."

"God forbid!" Keira grimaced.

"She's not _that_ bad, I'm sure," Blake chuckled.

"You know what she said to me, the very first time we sparred? _'You a fucking pussy or what? Get a goddamn grip, Scorpion, or you ain't going to last thirty fucking seconds out there!'_ "

Blake laughed.

"She followed up with: _'I am not a china fucking doll, sis; the sooner you understand that, the fucking better! I am a fucking_ Predator _. I am a killer. I can take a beating, believe me. Now, I know we both want each other to live, so let's get back to trying to kill each other, right?'_ "

"Ouch!" Blake commented.

"She's an animal, to be brutally honest. I think it's that animal instinct, deep within her which helped her to survive everything that they did to her. There are times that she scares the hell out of me. I love her, I really do, but it's like loving G.I. Jane, for heaven's sake!"

"Harper's a lovely girl and she has a wonderful big sister who loves her. Now, I had better be going – how about I take you both out for dinner, tomorrow night?"

Keira simply grinned as her cheeks turned pink.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, November 20th_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

"You did what!?"

"It was just like I said," Keira responded.

"I thought you buggered off pretty quickly," Harper growled. "I'm glad you went after her, but damn!"

"I had no choice; Diana needed to go somewhere safe."

"Was Blake there?"

"Yes – he came over to check on Diana."

"He boned you, yet?"

Keira's jaw dropped at the blatant question.

"That has nothing to do with you, young lady!"

Harper's eyes bored into those of her sister for a full minute before she relented.

"Okay. You seeing him again?"

"He's taking me and Diana to dinner, tonight."

"He boning you, tonight, then?"

"HARPER!"

"Just a question – jeez!"

..._...

"Okay, Harper, let's remove this bandage," Doctor Schneider said that afternoon as he gently eased back the bandage on Harper's right foot.

"You boning my sister, Doc?"

Doctor Schneider almost ripped the bandage off in surprise as the nurse exploded into giggles.

"Time and a place, Miss Sharp."

Harper realised that she had overstepped her bounds by quite a wide margin, according to the doctor's tone which was icy cold. The girl considered that annoying the doctor who was caring for some very bad injuries which were also quite painful, was probably _not_ her best idea.

"Sorry, Doctor Schneider," she muttered.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

She might have been missing her lower extremities, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with her mouth, her stomach, nor her appetite.

As a result, she was filling her mouth, and therefore her stomach, with as much food as her appetite could handle. It was not exactly an up-market restaurant, but neither was it Pizza Hut. That afternoon, Diana had been stunned to find herself being dragged off to Oxford Street where Keira had outfitted the girl with everything from knickers to pyjamas and jeans to dresses. The youngster felt humbled by Keira's attentions, and a little worried when they returned to the safehouse. While Keira hung up some of the new clothes, Diana got ready for a bath and she undressed while sitting on her bed. As Keira helped her into the bot bath water, laced with copious amounts of bubbles, Diana asked Keira a question.

"What will Harper say? I don't want her to feel put out by me getting in the way. You spent way too much on me, today."

Keira laughed as she washed Diana's long deep brown hair.

"Harper won't mind – I'll take her shopping when she comes out of hospital and get her knew clothes; she's about grown out of those she has. Besides, it's my money to spend how I wish. Anyway, she likes you, Diana – just think about yourself for a while, okay?"

Therefore, Diana was thinking of herself, via her stomach. She was oblivious to the stares that accompanied her as she wheeled herself around. She was also oblivious to the chatting of the adults as they dug into their food and drank some expensive wine. Diana was too young to notice the relationship which was developing between the two adults. She even overlooked Keira's giggling as Blake talked to her about this and that. Eventually, the talking stopped, and so did the eating.

"Are you two just going to stare at each other," Diana asked.

There was no response.

"Helloooo."

Keira looked over at the girl.

"Sorry, Diana – we were just taking a breather."

"Adults are _so_ weird!"

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Tuesday, November 22nd_**

 ** _Isle of Dogs_**

Diana had no idea why the grinning Keira had brought her to Docklands, a long stone's throw away from Canary Wharf.

They left the taxi and Diana found herself being wheeled towards a large building with a half-dozen floors and which was built in an 'L' shape. The building appeared anonymous, at least until they approached the reception desk.

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, how may I help you?"

"Keira Sharp and Diana Price to see Lucius Fox."

"Please take a seat, and Mr Fox will be with you, directly."

"I already am seated," Diana growled as she wheeled herself over to the where Keira could sit down. "I'm always sitting down – except when I'm lying down."

"Diana, calm down."

"What are we doing here?"

"Seeing a friend."

..._...

"Good morning!"

Diana looked up to see a kindly faced black man with a moustache and short greying hair.

"Who are you?" Diana asked, a little rudely.

"Most people call me Fox, but for a beautiful lady like yourself; you may call me Lucius."

Diana giggled.

"Okay, Mr Fox, err, Lucius, why am I here?"

Lucius Fox grinned as he smiled at Diana.

"I have some goodies for _you_ , Miss Price."

..._...

Diana was full of curiosity as they were led to a lift which took them down four levels.

The doors opened up onto a large open area occupied by about a dozen people, all working on various items. Diana's eyes only widened as they moved further into the area. Diana could see weapons, vehicles, and many things which were totally alien to her. Fox stopped beside a bench and he pulled the sheet off several items. Diana could tell it was some kind of body armour, but then she saw the colour – it was purple – and the initials on the belt buckle of the utility belt – H and G.

"O-M-G!"

"Don't tell Hit Girl – it's a surprise," Fox chuckled.

There was another combat suit, this one in black and green. It was like nothing either of them had ever seen, but the modular contoured armour bore a name in a light grey stencilled over the left chest, just below the twin sabres of the _Vengeance_ symbol: POLARIS. Keira looked up at Fox and she grinned.

"I thought she needed some new body armour – it's a new style, the same with Hit Girl's. They're the only versions of this new armour in existence to this point. Should have Harper's ready for when she leaves hospital and you say she can have it, Keira."

"Our secret, Diana," Keira cautioned, and Diana grinned.

..._...

Then something caught Keira's eye.

"What is that?"

"Oh, the CSH? You wouldn't be interested in that," Fox grinned as they walked over towards where a large helicopter sat in the centre of a landing grid. "The Combat Support Helicopter prototype – we call her _Cadmus_."

"Oh, I would," Keira responded in awe.

The fourteen-tonne helicopter was blacker than sin and to say that it was heavily modified was a major understatement.

The nose carried the usual radar, defensive, and FLIR systems seen on Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) Merlin helicopters, but the glazing appeared heavier but lighter.

"Armoured glazing – tougher than glass three times as thick," Fox explained. "Uprated engines – almost seven thousand shaft-horsepower."

"Those are not standard Merlin weapon wings!"

"State of the art, carbon-fibre and titanium. You have a potential for five hardpoints on each wing. For load testing, we have to port, a single ASRAAM on the upper launch rail, four Hellfire missiles below on the number one position, a pair of Brimstone II missiles on the number three position, and a pair of Stinger rounds on the number four position. To starboard, we have six Brimstone I missiles, an ASRAAM and another pair of Stinger rounds."

"A heavy load. Twelve ground targets and four airborne targets – on a good day," Keira commented. "Brimstone I outstrips Hellfire by a good two and a half miles while the Brimstone II more than trebles the range."

"The inside still needs work, but we have three mini-guns – port, starboard, and aft. She should be ready for her maiden flight in a few months. Before you ask, _Vengeance_ may be getting something similar," Fox added cryptically.

..._...

Finally, Fox waved them both into a plush-looking office and he closed the door.

"A drink, maybe?"

Keira and Diana both selected cold cans of Coke from the fridge and then sat back to await what Fox had to offer. Fox sat down behind his desk and looked at Diana.

"You, young lady, have suffered a traumatic experience, but I have been informed that you have been very brave. I also understand that you have tumbled to what Harper and Keira do at night. As such, I have been asked to get you back on your feet."

"Funny!" Diana growled.

"No, Miss Price. I mean it. I received your details the other day, and I set my team to work. A prosthesis is something we have been working on. You will be the very first to try our latest models. They are state-of-the-art and everything that a young lady would want."

Fox got up from his chair and walked over to a cupboard set into the wall. He reached in and he grasped an object, pulling it out and placing it on his desk. It was a right foot, complete with ankle and lower, lower leg. It looked suspiciously like what Diana had lost from her right leg. Fox returned to the cupboard and he returned with another, much larger, item. It matched the other item, only as far as the calf, extending upwards with its own knee joint and stopping several inches above the knee joint. Again, it looked suspiciously like what Diana had lost, this time from her left leg. Both artificial prosthetics were very futuristic and while they were shaped like legs, they had pistons and actuators which were visible within the skeletal structures. They kind of reminded Diana of when she had watched Terminator.

"You want to try them on?" Fox beamed.

..._...

"Lightweight carbon-fibre with titanium-alloy construction. Actually, they're lighter than the legs you lost. Now, these are not like a new pair of shoes – you can't just strap them on and run out the door."

"I figured that," Diana groaned.

"Let's go see Doctor Noble."

Diana found herself being pushed down the corridor and then into a lift. They headed up six floors and exited out into a corridor filled with daylight. A minute later, Diana found herself in what appeared to be a doctor's office. A middle-aged woman in a white lab coat was waiting – she was smiling.

"Diana, this is Doctor Noble. She will take an exact three-dimensional rendering of your stumps. I will leave you and Keira with the doctor and I will see you later on."

With that, Fox vanished, leaving Diana and Keira with the doctor.

"Okay, Diana. For this, I need you to remove your joggers and then we will scan your stumps. That will enable us to make an accurate mounting for your new limbs. The more accurate this is, the more comfortable your stumps will be. The scan will also identify where your remaining bones are and the fat deposits. That will allow us to ensure the correct support for your body as all your bodyweight will be on your stumps. This is not an exact science and initially, your stumps will be painful as they have never supported your weight before. There will be a lot of pain – I won't lie to you there – and it will be an uphill struggle for you. However, Diana, it will be worth every bit of pain and every tear."

Diana thought about all that and she nodded as she slipped off her joggers.

"Thanks for telling me that. Where do you want me?"

Keira lifted Diana out of the wheelchair and placed her onto a small stool with a seat much like that found on a racing bicycle within a weird circular booth. Diana was seated vertically, her stumps hanging naturally downwards. She was handed a set of darkened goggles to wear and Diana pulled them on, feeling suddenly very apprehensive.

"Sit as still as you can, please," Doctor Noble directed.

Four times the machine whirred, and Diana saw flashes of red and green lights. Four minutes later, Doctor Noble came in and Keira helped Diana back into her wheelchair. On a computer screen, over on a desk, Diana was amazed to see a perfect representation of her body from the waist down. She could see her stumps with every contour and dimple in exacting detail, including the parts which she could not and had never seen before. Another image showed the remains of her leg bones, beneath the fleshy stumps.

"We are looking at providing you with a system called vacuum suspension. This is a procedure which seals the prosthetic limb to your stump – we don't want it falling off, do we?"

Diana forced a laugh, she was feeling a little squeamish about it all.

"Okay, Diana. You've had it explained about your amputations, I assume?"

"Yes, Diana replied. "My right leg has a transtibial amputation or 'BK', short for 'Below the Knee'. My left leg has a transfemoral amputation or 'AK, short for 'Above the Knee'. That was explained to me some weeks back."

"Very good!"

..._...

An hour later, after everything was explained to Diana and Keira with intricate detail, Lucius Fox reappeared, and he escorted them both back down six levels into the basement.

There, Diana and Keira were amazed to see the two legs, each fitted with a transparent plastic funnel at the top.

"That was fast!"

"Three-dimensional printing, Diana," Fox explained.

Doctor Noble appeared with what looked like baggy socks and Diana was wheeled over to a pair of parallel bars.

"These are silicone socks which you will wear over your stumps allowing an air-tight seal for the sockets on the prosthesis," she explained as she showed Keira and Diana how they went on.

"They feel weird," Diana pointed out.

"You'll get used to it," Doctor Noble chuckled. "The system inside your leg automatically regulates the seal as your stumps expand or shrink with activity. This method is ideal for active youngsters such as yourself. You can even swim in these, if you so wished – they are a little over neutrally buoyant, just like real legs which float, especially the full leg on your left side. Okay – let's put on your legs."

It took several minutes to attach each prosthesis and test the seal. It was also essential to check that Diana felt no pain. She nodded her acceptance of them and then she began to cry.

"I'm scared. What if. . .?"

"Diana – stop that; let's just go with it, okay?" Keira said as she wiped away the tears.

With Keira's help, Diana was lifted up and she gasped as she felt weight on her remaining limbs for the first time in months. The sensations were weird but there was no real pain.

"How do they feel?" Doctor Noble asked.

"Good – I think."

"Normally, we would just do one limb at a time, but I think you are strong enough to handle both. Now, grip each bar with your hands and see if you can move your limbs."

Diana just stood there for a moment, savouring the fact that she was seeing the world properly for the first time in ages – crutches did not count. She moved her right leg as she would have normally done and that felt normal, apart from not having an ankle and the metal foot which had a rubber undercoating landed flat on the carpeted floor and she was left standing in a very undignified position with her legs apart and unable to move. She pulled at her left leg with her thigh, but nothing happened. The tears began in earnest.

"I can't move. I'm stuck."

"Diana, calm down and take a deep breath. You are doing fine."

Doctor Noble stood directly ahead of Diana.

"Look at me, not your feet. Move your left thigh in a flicking movement – don't use force."

The leg moved, and Diana found herself standing up straight with both metal feet side by side. She grinned broadly, the tears drying up. She moved her right leg and then with a flick, the left leg. The right leg, the left leg. The right leg, the left leg. The right leg, the left leg. It was working. . .

"I'm walking!" Diana exclaimed as she burst into tears of joy.

Keira was right behind her and she gave Diana a hug before helping her to sit back down in her wheelchair – the girl was exhausted, despite only having taken half-a-dozen steps. Keira felt tears on her own cheeks and she was surprised at how happy she felt for the little girl.

"Can I try again?" Diana begged.

"No," Doctor Noble replied. "I want you to get your stumps checked out by your doctor who will be able to tell if there is any damage. We will check and adjust the legs – they have microcomputers in them which will tell us if anything needs adjusting."

"Have no fear, Miss Price," Fox chuckled as he saw Diana's appalled expression. "The legs are uniquely yours, and you can come back in a day or two to try again."

"Thank you, Mr Fox, and thank you Doctor Noble. You've given me hope."

* * *

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

"I WALKED!"

"Hello, Diana. How are you? Good to see you, Harper. How are you?" Harper growled.

"Sorry – I'm just so excited!"

"I'd never have guessed," Harper groused.

"Turn a frown, upside down. . ." Diana grinned.

"Okay, I'm happy for you," Harper replied. "You just startled me was all."

"You have the best sister EVER!" the overexcited girl proclaimed.

"I do, don't I."


	52. Steeplechase

**_Four days later  
Saturday, November 26th, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle, Scotland_**

"You are _fucking_ kidding!"

"You are two quid out of pocket," Cassie commented.

Naomi scowled, ignoring the shit-eating grin on Kaitlin's face. They had been dug out of their beds at four o'clock that morning, handed a bacon-roll then a cup of tea. Their demands had covered no ground as they had been pushed outside into the freezing cold, very dark, morning.

"She's going to slot us," Naomi finally decided, unable to come up with any other reason for being hauled out of bed at 4 A.M. and being given a last meal.

"What the _fuck_ is going on?" Craig growled as he appeared behind the house.

Behind the tired looking boy came two dishevelled, equally tired girls – Olivia and Jessica. Then came Christopher and Jeremy, neither of whom appeared very happy at the morning's rude awakening.

"Can somebody please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on?" Naomi persisted as Jordan joined the group.

The eight kids were each dressed identically in T-shirt and shorts with trainers on their feet. All were shivering. Then Cassie, Natasha, and Cameron stepped forward – each was grinning.

"We have a little fun you guys, this morning," Cassie explained.

"Seems more like child abuse, to me," Olivia pointed out as she wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. "My nipples are blue and very hard."

Craig grinned at the explicit comment before his grin faded at the next comment.

"Down in the paddock, we have laid out a course – about a mile long – with one or two obstacles along the way," Cassie added with a chuckle.

"Did I do something wrong?" Kaitlin asked. "And where's Sasha?"

"He's still sleeping, and we didn't want him to get cold," Cassie responded with an evil grin.

"The damn dog gets to sleep in a warm house while we freeze our tits off!" Naomi exclaimed.

"You ain't got no tits," Olivia pointed out.

"At least I still have my dignity and I _don't_ have Craig's fingers up my snatch every damn day!" Naomi retorted snarkily.

"You want slapped, little assassin?" Olivia growled.

"Bring it on, you fucking. . ."

Both girls were unceremoniously grabbed by their T-shirts and shoved in the direction of the paddock.

"Move!" Natasha growled.

..._...

It was still dark as the eight reluctant kids began to run the flag-marked course around the six-acre paddock and beyond.

Each of them was fit and easily managed a decent pace which covered the ground speedily, but also regained some warmth as they ran. Nobody spoke as they concentrated on running through the mud which very quickly engulfed their trainers and covered their bare legs. The _Predators_ were used to the physical exercise – early morning runs were a staple of _Predator_ training – but the other kids, not so much. However, Craig was impressed by how well Jordan was able to keep up with them, despite his disability. As they rounded and zig-zagged across the paddock, their shoes and clothing became waterlogged and muddy. Each child's mood became rockier as time passed and they began to feel despondent as the course went on and on.

Kaitlin groaned as she splashed – waded more like – through water which was freezing cold and which also lapped at her crotch, soaking her shorts. She screamed as the water soaked through to her skin, thinking some very nasty things about her adoptive mother, but she pushed forwards, rising out of the water and into the trees surrounding the paddock. More screams were heard as the other kids also ran through the water which then froze their skin. While the water had washed off the mud, the many bare legs suddenly felt very cold, but only for a moment as very quickly, the coating of cold, sticky mud returned. The run through the woods as dawn approached was spirited and full of more obstacles which included giant circular hay bales which they were all encouraged to vault over. Unfortunately, for Jessica and Jeremy, they failed miserably and rolled off their bale and into a puddle of mud, soaking both of them to the skin. Olivia and Craig took pity on the youngsters, yanking them up out of the mud and sending them on their way.

As they rounded the corner a dozen yards from the Wolf Training Centre, they were slow-clapped by a grinning Trevor and David. Jeremy and Craig just grimaced as they ran past in hot pursuit of Naomi and Kaitlin who appeared to be well out in front. Letting two little girls win was not the cards, the boys had decided. It did not take long as the two young girls were quickly overhauled and with some muttered vulgarities, Naomi and Kaitlin fell back into third and fourth places. However, they were quickly overhauled by somebody with much longer legs and they both swore violently as Olivia Kensington strode past, her long legs, covered in mud, but also taking much longer strides than the two younger, shorter girls.

"Not fair!" Kaitlin called out as Olivia sailed past with ease.

"Not my fault, that you butch assassins are so short!" Olivia announced with a short laugh.

"Bitch!" Craig growled as a few moments later, his beautiful girlfriend strode past, her long shapely legs taking her a head past her boyfriend and they both sprinted hard towards the finish line across the grass.

Olivia took the applause as she burst through the white tape which formed the finish line, literally two inches ahead of Craig.

"Oh, yeah – beat the pussy _Predators_!" Olivia proclaimed before she collapsed to the muddy ground, her chest heaving as she struggled to take in air after the hard run.

..._...

Olivia was joined on the ground by Craig who groaned with the pain of the final sprint.

"You two did well," Cameron announced. "Well done, Olivia."

"Thanks. . ." the thirteen-year-old breathed.

The two teenagers were quickly joined by Naomi and Kaitlin who crashed to the muddy ground, their lungs gagging for air. A minute behind, came Jessica, Jordan, Christopher, and Jeremy. They each collapsed and groaned with the pain of their exertions. After several more minutes, all eight were sitting up and sipping from bottles of cold water. Olivia was very pleased to have won, and Naomi was the first to congratulate her. Naomi had never been a big fan of the teen, especially after the fuckups which had resulted in Harper being taken. They tended to bicker as Olivia was not a fan of Naomi, either. Maybe it was just their characters clashing, but for a moment, they maintained a pleasant outlook. None of the kids noticed two more arrivals who were not impressed by what they saw scattered around on the grass.

"They really are pussies!" the younger girl commented.

"Yeah, I agree," responded the older girl.

There were several classic double-takes and many blank looks before the penny finally dropped with a clang.

"Mary! Electra!"

The two girls cringed as a mass of wet, muddy, smelly, sweaty, overexcited youngsters almost bowled them over.

..._...

"You look a little muddy, 'livia – you been rolling in the mud with lover boy?" Mary chuckled as she studied the exhausted teen.

Olivia was muddy from head to toe, her shorts and T-shirt soaking wet, but the youngster was grinning from ear to ear.

"I beat lover boy – he's good in the rack, but shitty on his feet," Olivia grinned.

"She's trying to get back at me for stripping her on the boat," Craig growled.

"I didn't mean to bite your dick – it was an accident," Olivia growled back.

"Too much information, Olivia," Electra groaned, her face contorted in horror.

Mary just laughed, but secretly, she wished that she could have a boyfriend – unfortunately, her Royal duties forbade it until she was older. The group of kids along with the adults headed back up towards the house. Just as they approached the Wolf Training Centre, there came another voice.

"Looks like they _all_ need a fucking wash; can't leave them for a fucking minute – the dirty fuckers!"

Again, there were the double-takes, and then there was screaming, and Keira had to step in front of Harper to prevent the youngster from being hurt by the marauding crowd. Naomi was about to throw herself at Harper, but then she saw the scared expression on her friend's face and she stopped dead, extending her arms out to stop everybody else.

"Sorry – no hugs; I'm still in a lot of pain," Harper conceded with a grimace.

"No problem," Naomi said for everybody. "We're just glad to see you out of the hospital."

There were a lot of happy acknowledgements.

"She needs to sit down before she falls down," Mary pointed out as she pushed forwards to help Harper into the Training Centre.

Harper looked very thin and dishevelled, in fact, nothing like her former self. She wore loose clothing – a sweatshirt and joggers – plus a pair of trainers and she held an aluminium walking stick in her left hand to support herself. By the time she was seated inside with Mary's assistance, the nine-year-old girl looked exhausted. Mary had concern etched on her face, as it was in other faces too.

"I'm okay," Harper confirmed. "Healing is just going a little bit slower than I would have liked, making me a little bit fragile."

"Something is distinctly off, here," Kaitlin pointed out. "First, Electra and the Princess appear, then they are followed by Harper – what gives?"

"Bright little spark, isn't she?" Cassie chuckled. "All of you – go get cleaned up and dressed in jeans and T-shirts, please."

"Knickers?" Kaitlin wanted to know.

"Entirely up to you," Cassie chuckled as the kids vanished.

..._...

In hindsight, sending all eight kids to shower at the same time was probably not the best of ideas, but time was not on their side.

The showers were in a perpetual state of chaos and all modesty appeared to have vanished out the window – not that Jordan, Jeremy, and Christopher minded as the girls ran around, completely naked while they cleaned themselves up. Craig, however, had eyes only for Olivia – the pair were sharing a shower – and Jessica scowled as she saw her sister openly 'playing' with Craig's dick which was sticking out for all to see. Not all that long ago, her big sister hated to show even her tummy in public, but suddenly, she was happy for the world to see her sharing a shower with a boy and engaging in dubious behaviour while she was at it.

"Craig – there is no mud in Olivia's fanny," Jessica pointed out. "And I think her nipples are clean enough."

Olivia scowled at her little sister and she went back to Craig's crotch. Jessica was comfortable with being naked around other girls, but she got embarrassed each time a boy walked past her shower, or when she saw a naked boy in his own shower. She also tried to ignore the looks that she was receiving from Jeremy who appeared to like what he saw – not that there was all that much for him to see as she was not even needing a bra at that stage.

As each youngster appeared from the shower, they each found clean clothes neatly folded and awaiting their arrival.

* * *

Forty minutes later, they were all on the road, heading east.

Then, within another hour and by 7 A.M., they were all accelerating down the runway at Edinburgh Airport in the Gulfstream 650ER known as Alpha Foxtrot. With eighteen people and three crew, the aircraft was very full and heavily laden as it turned towards the North Atlantic and increased speed to over 500 knots.

"Now, I get it," Kaitlin muttered. "You wanted to wear us all out before the long flight so that we'd sleep."

"Clever girl!" Cassie explained.

"Well, your plan backfired, Mummy – I am _not_ tired!"

Ten minutes later, Cassie and Keira were left as the only people awake on the plane – apart from the pilots and Amy Davenport, the stewardess.

"Would you ladies like a coffee – I appear to have limited others to serve?"

"A glass of white wine, please, Amy," Keira suggested with a nod from Cassie.

..._...

The two women enjoyed their wine and they enjoyed the relevant peace and quiet of the aircraft as it headed west.

They were seated on the starboard side, facing one another across a table. Across the aisle, Trevor dozed in the rearward facing seat, with Ginny dozing across from him, while the eleven kids were randomly scattered throughout the middle and rear of the aircraft. Keira grinned at little Kaitlin who was snuggled up with Naomi on the settee to port a couple of feet aft of them. Even Princess Mary was asleep, her friend, Electra, leaning into her and also asleep. Harper was in the rearmost compartment, stretched out on a settee and fast asleep. Across from her, Olivia dozed.

"She looks good," Cassie commented.

"She's putting on some weight which is good, but her nightmares are still very vivid, and she hates being left alone – if she can't hear anybody; she'll start to scream with fear. Blake and I are hoping that time with her friends will divert her attentions away from her body which is still a mess and almost every time she takes a bath, now, she begins to cry when she sees the wounds. Surprisingly, she's made friends with that Scarlett girl – can't say I approve of them spending time together, but Harper seems to be gaining something from their conversations."

"Can't be easy to have her torturer just a few feet away, I'll admit," Cassie replied. "I would have wanted to put a bullet in her head one night."

"Yeah – the thought has crossed my mind every time that Harper screams out when her bandages are changed. That's why they left the Royals in place, I think. I've seen more tears from my little sister in the past two weeks, than since she came back to me. She's screamed in agony more times than I can remember and the times when she's hugged me for comfort just like she was six-years-old were heart-breaking."

Cassie could see the tears in her friend's eyes and she could not comprehend what Keira was going through. She also hoped that she would never have to go through anything like that with her own girls. Keira was on her second glass of wine as she continued to let everything out.

"I've seen the little girl that I used to know beneath the _Predator_. She's been so frightened by her experience and I know she puts on a brave face at times, but in reality, she's just a frightened little girl and I hope I'm doing everything I can to comfort her. We've talked a lot, Harper and me, about things – it's nice to be the big sister again. Harper's actually listening to me and I feel that we are closer than ever."

"Keira?"

"Yes, Cassie."

"You mentioned Blake . . . is there anything you want to tell me?" Cassie asked, digging for something juicy.

She did not go unrewarded as she saw Cassie blush.

"You and Blake get up to anything . . . err . . . kinky?"

Keira looked around to ensure that everybody was still asleep.

"We might have had the odd fumble – he has . . . he's well endowed. No! He has not been inside me yet."

Cassie giggled.

"Harper keeps asking me if Blake's 'boned' me – she's the last one I'm telling when he does!"

"You want him to?" Cassie pushed with a grin.

Keira grinned back.

"He's nice – very nice."

"I noticed. What about the other elephant in the room?"

"You mean, Diana? She's a lovely little girl who has been through a lot. I had to rescue her from a shitty care home where she almost raped by a boy there. I've asked myself, so many times: am I nuts?"

"No, Keira – you're as sane as I am."

"I've had it then!" Keira teased.

Cassie scowled.

"Jokes aside, Cassie – I love that little girl and if all goes well, I want her to become my daughter."

"And Blake your husband?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Keira laughed. "Harper thinks I'm totally nuts, but I think she likes the idea, too."

..._...

A while later, Keira awoke with a start – she could hear screaming.

She scrambled out of her seat and ran aft – it was Harper screaming – but then the screaming stopped, and Keira found Olivia hugging Harper. Olivia simply smiled weakly as she held Harper. The youngster had fallen back to sleep and with the help of Keira, Olivia was able to lay the girl back down again.

"Thanks, Olivia."

"She scared me."

"She has nightmares – lots of them."

"I'll stay with her until she wakes up," Olivia volunteered.

"You sure?"

Olivia nodded, and Keira went back to her seat.

"She okay?" Cassie asked.

"I hope so," Keira replied as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over.

..._...

When Harper awoke properly, four hours later, she found Olivia looking down at her.

"Was it you who helped me earlier?" Harper asked.

"Yes," Olivia replied.

"Thank you."

"I wanted to help – it is kind of my fault. . ."

"No – stop that Olivia. It was not your fault. It could have happened to any one of us. You were thrust into an environment in which you had no training. You made rookie mistakes because you were a rookie. I did my best to train you, but there was no time to cover everything, including EmCon. From what I understand, you suffered badly at the hands of the others – and I am sorry about that. I am sorry that you got caught up in the whole sorry affair. _Urban Predator_ is still fucking up kid's lives and I hate it. I hate what I am. I hate what it's doing to people like you – innocent people who get dragged in and hurt. My life is already fucked up – yours is not."

"Thanks to you, I survived, Harper. Without your training, I would not have got through it all. The attacks, the fighting. I killed men – they died at my hands. My hands are soaked in their blood. But, strangely, I sleep well at night - I get nightmares, but I am at ease with who I've killed. I suppose that was because they were bad men who threatened me and my friends – I have no regrets. When they found out about the mobile, they went ballistic. They cuffed me, then stripped me naked, and hooded me. I was scared and humiliated – everybody saw me naked, including the adults and the boys. I thought my life was over. I had never experienced such treatment before. I had never been locked up before or restrained like that. So many people saw me naked. People came to feed me while I was naked. People came to help me use the toilet – watching while I peed. Those who used to be my friends talked down to me and they treated me like shit – even Mary gave me orders with little compassion. I felt so low. I felt like I was just an animal. Then they made me watch the video where you were tortured. I thought they were all going to lynch me, right then and there – but your sister put herself between them and me. She warned them off. I don't think your sister likes me very much, but I can hardly blame her."

"I am sorry for what you endured – maybe you now have a slight idea what us _Predators_ went through. Humiliation was the name of the game and it was fairly constant. You survived everything they threw at you – it was designed to disorientate you and make you more malleable for interrogation. It was also a very benign way for you to be made to suffer. Believe me, if they had wanted you to really suffer, then they could have."

"I know. They've been really good to me since they found out it wasn't entirely my fault. I even beat those _Predator_ pussies in that steeplechase, this morning."

Harper laughed.

"Just remember that I'm one of those _Predator_ pussies, too, and when I am fully healed, I will kick your arse, Olivia Kensington!"

"I'm looking forward to it," Olivia grinned.

"Now, help this invalid to the damn toilet!"

* * *

 ** _Chicago, USA_**

Despite the ten-hour flight, they arrived four hours after they had left.

Thanks to the time zone shifting and the duration of the flight, it was just after 11 A.M. when they landed at Chicago O'Hare International Airport. There, they were met by three large SUVs.

"Welcome to the United States of America!"

Chloe, Joshua, and Dave each grinned happily as their guests all piled aboard. Stephanie, Abigail, and the diminutive Becky welcomed each and every one of their friends from the UK. Not surprisingly, the ride back to _Fort Fusion_ was decidedly rambunctious. Chloe, of course, decided that she wanted to get back first, so she accelerated past Joshua and Dave with ease, ignoring Joshua's non-verbal response with his middle finger.

The ride was not a long one – at least not for those aboard Chloe's SUV!

* * *

 ** _Fort Fusion_**

Mindy was not _all_ that surprised to see Chloe's SUV arrive first.

However, Abigail's expression as she scrambled out of the opposite side of the SUV from the front seat showed traces of terror.

"She's bloody nuts!" the youngster growled as she stormed past the grinning Mindy.

"I have to agree," Cassie commented as she gave Mindy a hug. "Hi, Mindy!"

"Hi, Cassie – good flight?"

"Not bad, thanks."

Mindy endured hugs from everybody, including those in the remaining pair of SUVs which arrived a few minutes after Chloe.

..._...

Initially, there was chaos as the freshly arrived youngsters mingled, chatting with Stephanie, Abigail, and Becky.

Mindy was biding her time as she had a big surprise for her eldest daughter. A lot of the attentions were focussed on Harper who was sitting on a steel step chatting with her friends who she had not seen in a long time. Abigail was very pleased to see Harper up and about – the girl had had a very close call. Abigail knew what it was like to be locked up, although, apart from certain things, which thankfully, she could not remember, nothing much had actually happened to her from a purely physical point of view, apart from a few punches which she was used to.

"Let's go find you some accommodation," Chloe proclaimed.

..._...

Stephanie, Abigail, and Becky escorted the newcomers through to Training Facility Echo.

The Brits were all stunned as none of them had even seen the place before. They wound their way down to Level 2 and to their accommodation for the weekend.

"The new facility is awesome, Mindy," Cassie commented.

"Well, there are really too many people now to properly fit into Foxtrot, so we redeveloped a section of Echo to provide a more modern training facility," Mindy explained.

"Right, you little ruffians," Cassie directed. "Time for you all to get changed!"

..._...

Harper was helped into a cabin by Olivia and Stephanie.

"How are you doing, Harper Sharp?" Stephanie asked.

"You know what those damn hospitals are like, Steph – they suck!"

"They do – I hated it."

Stephanie was not all that surprised to find Harper looking very worn as she sagged down onto a bunk. The youngster was struggling emotionally with a lot of baggage, Stephanie figured.

"I'm just glad to be back amongst my friends," Harper said as she smiled at both girls.

Olivia began to unpack Harper's uniform as well as her own. Stephanie saw the smile on Harper's face falter for a moment as she took hold of her dark blue uniform – a uniform which she had neither seen nor touched in a very long time. Stephanie saw the emotions flickering across Harper's face – then came the tears.

"I never thought I would ever see this uniform again, let alone wear it."

Harper sagged into Olivia who held her tightly as she sobbed.

..._...

It was several minutes – more like twenty – before Harper and Olivia were changed.

It had taken a while for Harper to undress and redress. Her left hand was the biggest issue and between Stephanie and Olivia, it had been slowly and painstakingly threaded down the sleeve of her uniform blouse. Stephanie had carefully tied Harper's boots while Olivia had changed into her own uniform.

"You remember how to use this?" Stephanie asked as she handed over Harper's SIG Sauer P238 Combat pistol.

"Fuck you, Stephanie!" Harper grinned. "I only have the one hand."

Olivia took the pistol and she expertly cleared the weapon before inserting a full magazine and safing the weapon.

"Polaris – your weapon," Ajax said, handing the pistol butt first to her friend.

"Very well done, Ajax," Harper replied as she holstered the weapon. "Thanks, both of you. I never thought I would ever be Polaris again. This moment is very special to me – and it's a special moment which I'm spending with my friends."

"I know how you feel, Harper – I went through the same thing with Psyche after I was shot. It was hard. I so wanted to be back in the suit, but it took a while until I was ready. However, I kept pushing it and Mum threatened to break my legs if I didn't let myself heal."

"Don't give my sister any ideas, please, Stephanie," Polaris grimaced.

..._...

Ajax received a somewhat icy look from Scorpion as she emerged from the cabin with Polaris and Psyche.

"Thank you for helping my sister, Ajax, but I can take it from here."

Ajax stepped away from Polaris, but only for a second.

"Scorpion!" Polaris growled.

"Sorry," Scorpion apologised. "I didn't mean anything by that, Ajax, and I truly mean it – thanks for being there for her."

Scorpion reinforced her words by giving the wary Ajax a hug.

"Okay – now the sissy shit is over, let's get back to being hardened vigilantes, shall we?" Polaris growled.

Scorpion and Ajax both laughed.

"I'd hoped her foul mouth might have been permanently lost to us," Scorpion chuckled.

"My goddamn mouth is the bloody best part of yours motherfucking truly!" Scorpion acknowledged to general laughter.

..._...

"Hey, Psyche, you little pussy; this what you call order?"

Psyche spun around, stunned by the voice and she came face to face with a _Fusion_ vigilante in her 'duty' uniform. The name tag above her left breast read: FOXTAIL.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing out?" Psyche blurted.

"Hospital is for pussies – right, Polaris!" Foxtail retorted.

"Like Psyche, yeah!" Polaris replied.

"You two cretins are very much alike," Psyche growled. "Both with your fucking crutches!"

Nevertheless, Psyche ran over to Foxtail and she gave her best friend a very big hug.

"It's really good to see you, Foxy," Psyche whispered into Foxtail's ear.

"It's really good to be out and with my best friend," Foxtail replied.

* * *

 _This story continues in_ **Chapter 359: Night of the Predator** of my other story: **Forsaken.**


	53. Storm Again

**_Saturday, November 26th, 2016_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Edinburgh, Scotland_**

"You know, Cam, it is _so_ peaceful without any of those pesky _Predators_ ," Eric commented.

"You miss them, Eric."

"I do?"

"You never have a bad word to say about them," Natasha laughed.

"They break all my stuff and complain about everything I make for them," Eric groused.

"You have a point," Cameron admitted.

"We going out, tonight?" Natasha wanted to know.

"Damn right, we are!" Cameron responded.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _Glasgow_**

It had been quite a while since it had last been just the two of them.

The brother and sister vigilante team cruised along the M80 motorway and they took the slip road onto the westbound M8 motorway. As was usual, most of the drivers were more intent on getting to their destination (and to hell with the mandated speed limit) rather than ogling vigilantes on motorcycles. For Drift and Crimson, that was just fine. They liked their anonymity and the darkness which assisted in keeping that anonymity. They also enjoyed the freedom of being out on their motorcycles: A Triumph Tiger Sport in dark blue for Drift, and a Triumph Speed 94 in crimson for Crimson. Though they enjoyed the time alone, they were also very conscious of the fact that they were alone with very little in the way of backup to call upon should things go wrong.

They were both seasoned vigilantes and they did not fear things going wrong. They concentrated on the night's mission and headed deeper into the city where alcohol flowed along with recreational drugs – at best. They had a reputation and when they cruised the streets, most tended to behave with just a drunken wave. Glasgow had a reputation for being a bad city at night, but that was mostly in the past. As a general rule, it was safe to wander about the city at night and many thousands did, on most nights. Apart from a few random fights which were expertly handled by the Police, Crimson and Drift had very little to do – at least until they spotted an unwelcome face nearby some student accommodation.

"Weasel!

"My queen!"

"Can it, you sycophantic, brown-nosing little twat!" Crimson growled.

"Sorry, I meant no disrespect . . . I . . ."

"Why are you here?" Drift growled. "You peddling drugs to the students again?"

"No way – not a dawn chance; and not after what you did to me the last time."

The ginger-haired man cringed slightly at the memory. He looked up at the two vigilantes, neither of whom appeared very amused by his antics. He decided that he needed to say something useful before he got his arse kicked.

"Something is building."

"What is it, that is building, Weasel?" Crimson demanded.

"There are some people in Scotland who do not belong," Weasel explained. "They are not immigrants, nor tourists, neither. Frenchies and some Yanks – they are here to cause trouble and despite them trying to stay apart, I've seen them working together."

"Is that it?" Drift asked.

"I'm doing my best!"

"We need more, assuming you want to stay out of prison," Crimson pointed out.

"There's muscle in Glasgow, Edinburgh, Stirling – also Carlisle. After events in London a few weeks back, I've been getting worried."

 _"I hate to cut in, guys, but there's a storm a-brewing a few streets over,"_ Q cut in over the radio.

"On our way!" Drift responded.

* * *

 ** _Blythswood Square,_**

Drift entered the square and he grimaced as he saw a fight underway.

It was no ordinary fight between drunks, instead, it was a group of men, at least a dozen, and they had all their attentions on a single foe. As Drift sought out the foe, he caught sight of her – it was a storm, just as Q had advised.

"Crimson – Storm's in trouble!" Drift radioed.

Storm was in way over her head and she was struggling. She had already put three down onto the pavement, but it was obvious that she was struggling to keep from being overwhelmed. Drift jumped off his motorcycle and he waded in, giving Storm a way out. After three more men joined the pile on the pavement, Drift was able to grab Storm by the arm and propel her out on to the road. There the vigilante looked around as she heard a motorcycle engine coming closer. Crimson held out her left hand as she pressed her horn, attracting Storm's attention.

As Crimson sped past, Storm grasped the outstretched hand with her own left hand and she swung up onto the motorcycle.

..._...

Crimson did not stop until they reached Kelvinside Park.

They waited for a few minutes before Drift pulled up alongside and they all dismounted from the motorcycles.

"Thanks," Storm said.

"You okay?" Crimson asked.

"I'm fine – nothing more than a few bruises," Storm replied.

"Who were your friends?" Drift asked.

"I don't know. They just appeared, and they surrounded me – nobody said a word. I've never seen anything like them before – where the hell did they come from?"

"Storm. There are forces at work across the globe. We call them the Axis of Evil. The UK branch is badly hurt, and the US branch is causing trouble. There are also other branches: French, Russian, and Sicilian."

"You saying this is just going to get worse?" Storm wanted to know.

"To be honest – yes," Drift advised the new vigilante.

"This puts a new slant on things," Storm commented.

"Just a bit," Crimson responded. "You may want to sit this thing out, Storm."

"Can I help?"

"I thought you were a lone wolf, Storm," Crimson pointed out.

"Looks like that may have to change."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Sunday, November 27th_**

 ** _Marchmont Crescent, Edinburgh_**

For Amber Dawson, it was the start of a new day, just like each and every day of the over two months which she had already endured in the safehouse - maybe prison might have been a better description.

The script was the same: Wake up. Get out of bed. Walk across to the bathroom. Turn on the shower. Dump her pyjama bottoms. Pee. Pull off her top. Climb into the shower. Wash. Dry. Dress. Then head for breakfast. As a rule, she was left alone. Her minders appeared at random intervals to check that she was still alive and to stock up the food cupboards in the kitchen. They had also provided clothing to supplement the limited items in which she had arrived. The rest of each day was spent thinking and reading - mainly newspapers and magazines which her minders brought – and she tried to piece together what had happened and what was happening. She had been seized by _Vengeance_ , but then they had suddenly vanished – until a few weeks before when they had reappeared in an explosive emergence which had resulted in armour-clad vigilantes appearing live in Downing Street.

Amber had been able to backtrack seemingly innocuous reports in various tabloids and magazines, including the shitty ones which still thought that Elvis was alive and well, living in Bradford with Marilyn Monroe! Those shitty rags tended to report stories which the mainstream tabloids would not touch. Amber had kept clippings of mysterious attacks and explosions. There had been the reported sighting of black helicopters over the mysterious and top secret Boscombe Down including the firing of surface-to-air missiles. There had been explosions in various parts of the southwest, then explosions off the east coast. Submarines had been reported surfacing and firing torpedoes. There had been a supposed attack on the Prime Minister's country residence and Chequers and then a massive amphibious assault which had been identified as a military exercise which had got out of hand.

Amber was not buying any of it – _Vengeance_ had been caught with its hand in the cookie jar and they had been disavowed; at least that was her reading of the situation.

* * *

 ** _Over the Atlantic Ocean  
South of Greenland_**

 ** _Aboard Alpha Foxtrot_**

Most aboard were dozing as the Gulfstream 650ER executive jet streaked above the ocean at 48,000-feet.

Harper was with Keira in the aft cabin, just the pair of them. Harper lay on the sofa while Keira sat across the cabin in a seat. Both sipped at a cup of tea each and they talked. Harper was telling her sister about everything which she had experienced in the Battle Bunker. Keira smiled at how excited her little sister was and she dutifully listened to everything that Harper had to say. Finally, after quite a while, the conversation thinned, and Harper laid back to rest.

"You get some sleep now, sweetie," Keira suggested.

"Okay," Harper conceded as she smiled and closed her eyes.

Keira smiled back as she got up to head forward for a new cup of tea. She passed by Naomi and Mary who were talking tiredly between themselves. Olivia was giggling with Electra over something both thought very funny, and Jordan was talking with Craig. The rest were fast asleep for the flight which made for a quiet cabin. Amy already had a cup ready for Keira, who nodded her thanks and headed back aft. As she strapped back into her seat, she looked over at the sleeping Harper – only she was not asleep.

"How's Diana doing?" Harper asked as her eyelids opened and her piercing brown eyes bored into those of her sister.

"She's doing good. Blake says that she's had a couple of days learning to use her new legs."

"How's Blake?" Harper grinned.

"Blake is fine," Keira replied, her cheeks going visibly pink. "He misses you."

"Strange as it sounds, I miss Diana."

"How would you feel if she came to live with us?"

"You want to adopt her?" Harper did not sound surprised.

"I can't just leave her to be swept into the system. She also knows about who we are – well, she guessed, and I know that she won't let it go," Keira replied. "She's a lovely young girl and you do get on with her."

"Yes, I like her, but she can be really bossy, and she thinks she knows everything . . .what does _that_ look mean?"

"You and Diana have a lot in common, honey."

"I suppose. We have that bedroom downstairs, too. Yes, I could get used to having her living with us, I think."

"Assuming that she would be _my_ daughter, you would be _her_ aunt."

"Auntie Harper – just what I need," Harper groused. "What about Blake?"

"What about him?"

"He going to be Diana's Dad and _my_ brother-in-law?

"Would you like him to be?"

"It would be nice for you to have somebody. I'm your sister, and I have my friends, but you need somebody. I find it unbelievably disgusting to even consider what you might be doing in bed with a man, but I'm mature enough to understand that adults need certain things. You need love and companionship, I understand that. I can give you love, but I know that you need something stronger than that."

"Thank you, Harper – that was all very mature of you. You're growing up fast.

"Sometimes events force you to grow up early. First _Urban Predator_ and now Radford. I want you to be happy, Keira, and I want us both to be happy. You have my support, no matter what you decide where Diana and Blake are concerned."

"Okay. Thank you, for that."

Keira stood up and gave her sister a kiss.

"Get some sleep, little one."

"Night, Kei."

"Night, Harps."

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Monday, November 28th_**

 ** _London_**

Everybody had gone their separate ways.

Back home. Back to School. Back to Work.

Keira had flown with Harper down to London. They had been met at London City Airport by Blake and Diana. There was something very different about the young girl and it took a moment for Harper to grasp it.

"You're taller than I thought you might be," Harper commented.

"I feel taller, I think," Diana replied. "They're taking a lot to get used to, but I'm just glad that I can get out and about without wheels – still need this damn stick, though."

"She's done very well," Blake commented as he and Keira exchanged hugs and kisses. "A few tears but we got past it."

"I am very pleased to see you like that, Diana," Keira commented, hugging the youngster. "Let's go get Harper her check-up, shall we?"

"Cool! Just what I always wanted!" Harper growled sarcastically.

* * *

 ** _Three days later  
Thursday, December 1st_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Some were happy, while another was apprehensively sad.

Harper was over the moon because she was finally leaving hospital for the very last time. The same applied to Diana who was pleased that Harper was done with the place. She had enjoyed showing off her new legs to the nurses at the hospital. The two girls had also paid a visit to Scarlett Radford. The girl was morose, to put it mildly. It did not help that Diana flaunted her new legs which just had Scarlett sinking into a much sulkier state. Harper felt sorry for her former adversary, but there was nothing that she could do to help. For Scarlett, the final goodbyes were not fun and before long, she was alone again, and she knew that she would stay alone. Part of her wanted to be alone – she was embarrassed by what she had been part of. She had nightmares where she was tortured for hours in the same way that young Harper had been. The dreams had been so vivid and so real. Why could she not have stood up to her father and protected Harper? Why did she go along with it? How could she have been so callous? She had asked about her future, but nobody had told her anything. She figured that she would be dumped into some children's home – she was only thirteen and far too young to fend for herself. She was also penniless as her father's money had been tied up by the Government.

She had nothing: No money. No family. No friends. No hand. No future.

* * *

 ** _That Afternoon_**

The drive north was entertaining for Keira.

In the back of the Audi Q5, the two girls laughed, giggled, and sang their way up the motorway from London. Anything which put a smile on Harper's face was good in Keira's book. The same also applied to Diana. The eleven-year-old was grinning at Harper's jokes – even the crude ones. More than once Keira had thoughts concerning what she was doing. Taking on a child was one thing, but a disabled child? Diana had yet to learn exactly why Harper was the way she was. Would that alter the way Diana thought about Harper, and by extension, Keira? So many questions, but so few answers.

It was always that way and Keira was used to it.

* * *

 ** _East Mayfield_**

It was late evening by the time they arrived at their home.

For Keira, it had been weeks since she had last been there, but she found Natasha waiting for her. Natasha had cleaned the house from top to bottom and restocked the fridge and freezer, as well as the kitchen cupboards in expectation of Keira's return.

"Hi, Harper – you look good," Natasha said as Harper hobbled slowly up the path towards the front door.

"I'm sure this path's gotten longer since I was last here," Harper groused good-naturedly.

"Move it, short-arse!" Diana laughed.

"Natasha – this is Diana," Keira said. "Diana, this is Natasha."

"Hi, Natasha."

"Hello, Diana – please, call me Nats."

..._...

"My sister's bedroom is up the stairs, turn left. My bedroom is up the stairs to the right. Bathroom straight ahead. Your bedroom, Diana, is to the left of the stairs. The toilet is there on the right. Living room in there – dining room and kitchen are through there," Harper said happily.

Harper hobbled forward, pulling Diana with her. Diana pushed open the door to her new bedroom. The walls were painted pink, and there was a single window off to one side. A single bed with pink bedding lay alongside the wall opposite the door. Beside the bed was a desk and chair, adjacent to the window. To the right of the window, in the corner, there was a sink. Between the sink and the door, there was a wardrobe with three drawers at the bottom. Diana's grin was enormous as she took in the colour scheme and the little things, such as soft red pillows on the bed and a large pile of soft toys piled up beneath the window.

"I love it!" Diana squealed happily before hugging Harper tightly.

Diana quickly moved on from the startled Harper and she hugged Keira just as tightly. Keira looked down at the little girl who had started to cry. Diana felt extremely overwhelmed by her treatment, but she was also very happy. That evening, after Natasha had left, the three of them sat down in the cosy living room. Harper insisted that Diana share the couch with her while Keira sat in a comfy armchair. Between the three of them, they consumed two large pizzas, a few litres of Pepsi Max, and some chocolate ice-cream. By ten that night, both girls were very tired, and Keira encouraged them both to get to their beds. Harper insisted on struggling up the stairs on her own while Diana also insisted on doing it all herself.

When Keira went to check on Harper, she found her sister wearing an oversized T-shirt and hobbling out of the bathroom. Keira waited patiently for Harper to hobble into her bedroom and then flop into her bed. There was intense relief on Harper's face. She had never expected to ever see her home again, let alone sleep in her own bed. There were a few unbidden tears, but otherwise, Harper was smiling.

"Good night, Harps, sleep well."

"Night, Kei. Love you."

"Love you, too. Sleep Tight."

Keira turned off the light and she headed downstairs.

..._...

Diana was sitting on her bed, pulling on her pyjamas.

Her 'legs' were arranged neatly at the end of the bed where she could easily get to them. Keira pulled back the duvet and Diana slid her stumps underneath so that Keira could then tuck the duvet in around her.

"You alright?" Keira asked.

"This is all amazing, Keira. I love it all, and I'm so happy to be out of London. Even better that I have me feet, so to speak."

"You get a good night's sleep, okay?"

"Yes, Keira. Night."

"Night, Diana. Sleep Tight."

..._...

"So, you all made it okay?"

"We did, Blake. Thanks for everything. I'm going to miss you."

"I'll be with you in a little over two weeks – it'll pass quickly, I promise."

"You promise?"

"I do. Sleep Tight, Keira."

"Sleep Tight, Blake."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Friday, December 2nd_**

 ** _St Thomas' Hospital, London  
The Fifth Floor, Children's Wing_**

Scarlett Radford received little more than forty minutes warning.

She had next to nothing to pack, so that task was completed in just two minutes. After receiving her patient notes from Dr Schneider, the youngster was led out of the hospital for the first time since her arrival, six weeks previously. Where she was headed, she had no idea. Outside, she was met by two young adults.

"Hello, Scarlett, my name is Cameron King, and this is my sister."

"Natasha King, Scarlett. You will be residing with us for the next few months."

"How's the new hand?" Cameron asked the girl.

Scarlett apprehensively raised her right limb.

"It's going to take some getting used to," she admitted as the four fingers moved one after another.

She had only had the hand a week – a gift, apparently, from some black guy. It was no direct replacement for the hand which she had had since birth, but it had allowed her some independence as she'd figured out how to use the state-of-the-art computerised device.

"Where am I going?"

"North of the wall, honey!" Natasha grinned.

* * *

 ** _East Mayfield  
Edinburgh, Scotland_**

"Hey, Harper!"

Harper groaned as she grabbed a spare pillow and she held it to her face with her right hand.

"Come on!"

Harper screamed into the same pillow for a few seconds before she threw the pillow towards the sound.

"Great – nice way to treat a friend!"

"Diana!" Harper growled as she forced her eyes open. "What time is it?"

"About six o'clock."

"DIANA!"

..._...

"What's up, grumpy?" Keira chuckled as Harper limped into the kitchen an hour later.

While Keira had no problems with early mornings – thanks to the navy – Harper had never been a morning girl, even when she was little, so 6 A.M. was really pushing it. Keira was struggling not to laugh at the youngster, but Harper's expression was so adorable. It was caught between anger at being woken up by Diana – yes, Keira had heard the scream – and affection towards Diana. If it had been anybody else, Harper would have simply punched their lights out – especially if had been Kaitlin or Naomi – but Diana was different as far as Harper was concerned. Keira gave in as she saw the smiling Diana swaggering in on her new legs, and she started to laugh. Harper pouted as she endured her big sister's laughter.

"Okay, I look like crap," Harper admitted.

"You got that right!" Diana grinned. "What you guys got for breakfast?"

..._...

After breakfast, Harper and Diana dressed ready for the day.

Diana helped Harper with her trousers as her feet were still tender and difficult to manoeuvre trouser legs over. The left hand was something else and Harper closed her eyes as Diana took her time easing it through the sleeve of a blouse. Short sleeves would have been best, but it was December, so that was a no go. Harper felt humiliated at having to receive help, but Diana was gentle and did nothing to further embarrass the nine-year-old. Despite Harper finding the older girl distinctly annoying at times, she also liked the girl immensely. Harper missed having a companion and moving away from Naomi and Kaitlin had always been hard.

But Harper felt like she could trust Diana.

..._...

"What do you want to do today?" Keira asked the two girls as they returned downstairs.

Diana shrugged.

"Keira, I want to explain to Diana what I am and why am what I am."

"Bit of a mouthful, but okay."

"Am I going to like this?" Diana asked somewhat apprehensively as she sat down on the couch.

"No, but I think that you need to know all about me before you make any decisions about where you want to live," Harper replied as she struggled to look Diana in the eye. "You have already figured out that I am a part of _Vengeance_ , but there is more – so much more."

"Go ahead," Diana said.

"I am a _Predator_. I was taken when I was just seven and I endured hell while I was trained to become an assassin. . ."

Over two hours later, Diana was sobbing and so was Harper. Diana was filled with sorrow for Harper and while she had wanted to know all about the mysterious girl who had appeared in the hospital with major injuries, the revelations were mind-boggling. Government schemes. Children being forced to kill and to learn awful things. Diana had learnt about Polaris and everything which had occurred since Harper had returned to Keira – right up to when she was taken and then rescued by Royal Marines in Wales of all places.

"Do you still want anything to do with me, now, Diana Price?"

Diana's eyes narrowed as she shakily got to her carbon-fibre feet and she turned to face Harper.

"Don't you dare, Harper Sharp," Diana said sharply. "You are what you are, and I like you for what you are. I knew weeks ago that you were dangerous – I could see that in your eyes – but I never flinched away from being your friend. I'm not going anywhere. None of that _Predator_ stuff was your fault and now you're using what you were forced to learn for good. That just makes you a hero in my book, Harper Sharp."

Keira had never seen her little sister looking so meek and speechless as she absorbed what Diana said.

"Thanks," was all Harper could say.

* * *

 ** _Early that same afternoon_**

 ** _Southfield Letham, Falkirk_**

The flight had been short – about an hour.

Then had come a drive of about forty minutes – due mainly to the traffic – before they had pulled through a set of electronically-activated wrought iron gates. The house was large and spread over two floors. Scarlett was led inside and shown around before being taken up the stairs to a bedroom which overlooked the grass which surrounded the property on all sides.

"Scarlett, this is your bedroom. The bathroom is next door," Natasha said. "My bedroom is down the far end of the house, while my brother is by the stairs. Make yourself at home and then you are free to do whatever you wish. Tomorrow, I will take you shopping and we can get you some clothes and personal things. You need anything, we'll be downstairs."

"Thank you."

Scarlett was overwhelmed by everything and once Natasha had gone back down the stairs, Scarlett lay down on the bed and she tried to make sense of everything which was happening to her. She held her new hand up in front of her face. It was black – she had a flesh-like 'glove', but she liked the skeletal-like fingers and the movements mesmerised her as she triggered the fingers to fold and then to form a fist. The hand was carbon-fibre, making it very light, much like her original hand. She knew that she had to make a choice of how to live out her life. Not that she had many choices to make. Her life was in the hands of Cameron and Natasha – they seemed nice enough, but how much did they know about her . . . and what she had participated in?

Only time would tell, she thought as her eyes closed and she drifted off into a troubled sleep.

..._...

"Scarlett."

"Scarlett."

"Scarlett."

The thirteen-year-old opened her eyes – it was dark. For a moment, her brain struggled to comprehend where she was, then she remembered as a light came on beside her.

"Hey, honey – it's time for dinner."

"Natasha?"

"Yeah – call me, Nats. You hungry."

"Yes, I think I am."

"I'll leave you to sort yourself out and then come downstairs to the kitchen."

Scarlett sat up and swung her legs to around to rest her feet on the floor. She rubbed her eyes with her left hand as she woke up properly before heading for the bathroom and a wee. For a moment, as she left the bedroom, she was a little lost, but she found the stairs and she followed the smell of food. The kitchen was warm and cosy. Scarlett found Cameron and Natasha arranging several dishes of food onto the kitchen table.

"We didn't know what you liked, so we just cooked a range of stuff," Natasha explained.

"I cooked – Nats cannot cook to save herself," Cameron clarified. "Nats just took the chips out of the freezer – and she managed to screw that up."

Scarlett grinned.

"Take a seat. We have chips. We have fish fingers. We have some pork chops. We have some . . . well, they started off as chicken nuggets, but Nats managed to burn a few of them when she 'accidentally' nudged up the oven temperature," Cameron went on.

"I was just trying to help," Natasha tried.

"It looks _so_ good!" Scarlett exclaimed.

"Dig in!" Cameron directed.

..._...

Scarlett was amazed by the spread laid out before her.

She had not seen so much good food in weeks, if not months. Her father generally ate small and usually boring meals. After she had eaten her fill and drunk herself to the point where she had to go to wee, she sat back down and felt pensive. Her expression betrayed her turn of mind.

"What is wrong?" Natasha asked.

"What do you know about me?" Scarlett asked.

"We know everything about you, Scarlett Radford," Cameron replied evenly. "We know everything, right down to how you lost your right hand, and how you gained a replacement."

"So, you know what I've done?"

"Yes, we know all about what happened to Harper Sharp," Natasha replied. "That girl is our friend, but as far as we can tell, you helped her when you did not need to. It was your father who was the inhuman animal. You cared for our friend and for that, you are being given a second chance at life. Yes, you can look at yourself as being on probation. How long that is for, is up to you, Scarlett. Take this new chance, use it well. It will be difficult, and your past will come back to haunt you, but I am certain that you can beat it."

"Will I see Harper again?"

"Oh, yes – most definitely."

"I'd like that."

Scarlett processed all that she had been told and she liked the sound of it all. At least she had nothing to hide from Cameron and Natasha, which was a weight off her mind. It would be a struggle, they were not wrong there.

"Every journey begins with the first step, Scarlett," Natasha said warmly. "You have taken that first step and every step moves you closer to getting back to a normal life. We will stay with you for as long as you want us there, okay?"

"Thank you."


	54. New Girls

**Author's Note:** _This chapter follows on from events in_ **Chapter 361: Admissions** _of my other story:_ **Forsaken** _._

* * *

 ** _Saturday, December 3rd, 2016_**

As the British Airways Boeing 747 accelerated down the runway at Chicago O'Hare International Airport, the occupants of seats 13E and 13F were glad that they were finally out of public view.

They were flying in business class, which had had its benefits, but not enough for them to both suffer intense humiliation. They had both been delivered to the airport by Lucy, but before they had been able to leave the car, their ankle monitors were swapped for examples which did not carry any explosives. They both felt like criminals as the new monitors were attached to their left ankles. Lucy did not judge, neither did she comment. They had still felt the guilt of their actions which had brought them to the situation they were in. Only, they were being given a second chance. During their time at Safehouse Q, they had both been fitted out with a complete wardrobe of clothing – some if it very expensive. Then, after barely a week, they had both been provided with a British Passport each, and a full set of papers which had included original British birth certificates, amongst other things. They were each given $250 and £500 in cash – low denomination notes – to cover incidental expenses while they travelled.

Very little information was provided, other than that they would be met at their destination and that there would be a code challenge.

...+...

They had been met by a pair of uniformed Transport Security Administration (TSA) officers who took over custody from Lucy.

Their humiliations went even further as they were guided through to security where their passports were checked, re-checked, and checked again. In the case of the TSA officers, they were judging; their eyes made the two girls want to run to hide from the humiliation. Then their accessories set off the security devices and they both endured a humiliating 'enhanced' pat-down. Other members of the public were able to see them being escorted and more than once, their ankle monitors had been on public display. By the time the TSA officers had escorted them into the British Airways lounge, Charlotte was in tears and Dakota was not far behind. They could feel the glances of the businessmen and businesswomen as they slunk down into their seats to await boarding.

The call for boarding could not have come too soon and they almost bolted for the gate.

...+...

"Hello."

Soon after take-off, Charlotte looked up to find a blonde-haired young woman looking down at them from seat 13D. Their seats were side-by-side and facing aft on the centre-line of the aircraft so that they could be together, and presumably kept away from normal people.

"Hello?" Charlotte replied.

"I hate these long flights, don't you? My name's Brooke by the way."

"Charlotte."

"You heading home? You're a Brit, right?"

"Yes, I am. I'm heading back to Scotland with my friend."

"Hi, friend!" the girl, Brooke, called out to Dakota.

"Dakota," Dakota offered.

"I'll leave you two to enjoy the flight – see ya!"

Charlotte looked over at Dakota and they both simply shrugged.

..._...

The flight was good, and the two girls had wanted for nothing.

They were provided with meals and drinks by a dedicated stewardess – her name was Melissa – who had raised an eyebrow at the sight of the girls' ankle accessories and as a result, both girls had felt really small and full of shame at the publicly visible sight of their incarceration. Melissa had simply smiled.

"I am not judging either one of you, okay?"

Both girls had just nodded meekly as they were served their meals. The girl, Brooke, would periodically check on them for some reason or other – maybe she just wanted to chat. Ultimately, both had been very surprised at the trust which had been put in them to travel such a distance all alone. Neither girl would ever contemplate absconding – not at the risk of having a vengeful Hit Girl coming after them.

Finally, after many hours, they landed at London Heathrow and deplaned at Terminal 5 from where a private jet would carry them north, to Edinburgh.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, December 4th_**

 ** _Edinburgh, Scotland_**

As the Gulfstream jet taxied to a halt on the parking apron, a dark blue Jaguar XJL pulled up a dozen yards away from the left wingtip.

A rather grave-looking man stepped out and he waited patiently for the forward hatch on the port side of the jet to motor open before he quickly mounted the steps and entered the cabin. He looked down at the two girls and he smiled before he then looked at them with an expectant expression. Both girls began to speak.

"We are _Marauders_ and we are looking for a new life," they intoned.

"Are you sorry for what you have done?" came the expected response.

"We are."

"Then a new life, you shall have," the man said cheerfully, completing the challenge. "My name is Jasper – welcome to Scotland, girls."

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Forty minutes later, Jasper had to shake the two girls awake.

"Where are we?" Charlotte asked, somewhat tiredly.

"At the start of your new lives," Jasper chuckled.

It was dark and just a few minutes before 5 A.M., but despite that, Cassie Perrin was awaiting their arrival.

"This way, girls."

Charlotte and Dakota followed Cassie up some stairs to where Cassie pointed out a room to each girl.

"Charlotte, you take that room which will be yours for the time being. Dakota, this room is just for now until you meet your new family tomorrow. Please get some rest and sleep as long as you need. When you awake, please feel free to make use of the bathrooms; fresh towels are there as you need them. Have a good sleep – good night."

The girls found themselves alone and after a brief goodnight, they headed into their bedrooms and they quickly stripped off before diving under the soft quilts. Both girls were pleased to be somewhere new, far away from their previous life of hell in the USA. The girls were fast asleep within seconds of their heads touching the goose feather pillows and they descended into their usual combination of dreams and nightmares. Three hours later, neither girl noticed two heads peeping in on them as Kaitlin and Naomi checked in on them; their curiosity aroused.

Cassie, however, chased both girls away and sent them downstairs for breakfast.

..._...

It was another two hours, around 10 A.M., before Charlotte and Dakota stirred.

Charlotte was awake first and she quickly dived into the attached bathroom, both for a wee and a shower. Her skin felt clammy from the long flight and the much-needed sleep. As she climbed out of the shower, she noticed a little girl staring at her.

"Hello," Charlotte said.

"Hello – I'm Kaitlin."

"Charlotte – but I prefer Charlie."

Kaitlin studied the girl standing naked before her, focussing only on the scar which featured prominently on her stomach and then the ankle monitor – there was not much else to see, to be honest.

"I'm a criminal," Charlotte admitted, her face turning red with embarrassment and humiliation.

"No, you're not," Kaitlin replied. "You're just a girl forced to do bad things and you lost your way."

"You are a _Predator_?" Charlotte asked as she dried herself off and walked back through to the bedroom.

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"I'm used to it."

Once Charlotte was dressed, they both crossed over the hallway to find Dakota getting dressed after her own shower.

"Hi, 'kota – this is Kaitlin."

"Morning, Charlie – hello, Kaitlin."

"Hello, Dakota."

Dakota frowned before reaching out and grabbing Kaitlin by the head and twisting it.

"Hey – my head's attached, you know!" Kaitlin hissed as Dakota checked behind her right ear.

Satisfied, Dakota released the younger girl.

"Sorry, Kaitlin – I just had to check."

"You could have asked!" Kaitlin growled, but then she smiled. "You must both be very hungry – come on."

..._...

The two girls felt timid for some reason as they followed the little girl down the stairs and into the capacious kitchen.

They could smell the food cooking and the kitchen was warm and cosy. A woman stood over by the stove, cooking while another girl, this one older than Kaitlin sat over at a table with a large dog lying on the floor beside her.

"Charlotte, Dakota, please meet my cousin/sister (long story), Naomi – and before Dakota rips off her head, yes, she's a _Predator_ , too. This is our Gran, Alexandra and the furball is Sasha."

"Morning, girls!" Cassie announced as she breezed in from outside. "Had a good sleep? I see you've met my Mum and the girls."

The two girls sat down at the table, ignoring Naomi's inquisitive expression as she studied the two newcomers. Sasha, too, gazed up at the two girls checking them both out.

"Oh, wow!" Dakota exclaimed as a massive plate with a mound of food was placed before her.

Charlotte just bit her lip as her eyes went wide as a similar plate graced her side of the table too. Cassie and the younger girls each received a plate, similarly loaded with bacon, eggs, thick pork sausages, fried bread, mushrooms, fried half tomatoes, whole plum tomatoes, black pudding, and lashings of baked beans. The plates were quickly joined by steaming mugs of hot, sweet, milky tea and triangular slices of thick white toast, running with real butter. The entire meal was a heart-attack on a plate, but it was also the very best way to start a day and both girls had missed a proper fry up and neither had even seen one in many years.

The food vanished very quickly as everybody ate without really talking much. Alexandra chuckled as she saw the happy faces on the two new arrivals. She knew that there was darkness behind the eyes, just like with Naomi, Kaitlin, and all the other kids. She intended on giving the youngsters every help she could to put them on the right road so that they could have a life and have a childhood.

"Thank you," Charlotte said with a grin as she sat back and pushed the empty plate away from her.

"Yes, thank you," Dakota added.

"You are both very welcome," Alexandra smiled.

* * *

 ** _Early that afternoon_**

"Dakota, this is Sinead McFadden," Cassie explained. "You will be going to live with her and her family, not too far away. "Sinead is a Captain in the Royal Marines."

Dakota's face brightened up at that news.

"Really – a Commando?"

"You better believe it, honey," Sinead replied with a grin.

"Are you hurt?" Dakota asked, seeing the limp.

"Just a few bullet holes – nothing I can't handle," Sinead smiled.

"Cool!"

* * *

 ** _Later that same afternoon_**

 ** _Auchenross_**

Dakota's eyes flew everywhere as she took in all that she saw.

Part of it was her deeply embedded training, the rest just pure curiosity. As the Land Rover Defender came to a halt on the gravel drive, Dakota saw her new home. The house was amazing and had to be over a hundred years old. Sinead waved the fourteen-year-old into the house and they passed through a studded oak doorway of considerable thickness – almost six-inches.

"Let's go find your bedroom, first, shall we?" Sinead suggested.

"Okay."

At the top of the pale oak staircase, they stopped.

"My parents live in there," Sinead announced, pointing to the right. "My bedroom is straight ahead, there, and I also have the room next door to it for all my uniforms and crap."

Sinead turned left and followed a long hallway.

"Bathroom is in there – there's a shower room by the back stairs. Your bedroom is in here – you get a lovely bay window looking west."

The bedroom was a good size and painted a pale blue above, with pale oak panelling below. The bed was a double and sat against the wall with the window to its right. The bedding was pink – very pink.

"Sorry about the bedding – my Dad gets a little carried away and he misses 'his little princess'," Sinead commented dryly.

Dakota giggled. As far as she was concerned, it was perfect.

"It's great – it really is."

..._...

After leaving Dakota's bags on the bed, they returned to the ground floor.

"Sitting room is in there. Drawing room in there. Dining room in there. Kitchen is through there. Mum and Dad should be in the drawing room."

Dakota was very apprehensive as she entered the large drawing room. There were two couches either side of a large glass-topped coffee table arranged before an open fireplace which had a fire roaring in the grate.

"Mum, Dad – this is Dakota," Sinead declared.

"Hello, Dakota. Welcome to Auchenross."

The man who had spoken was tall and balding, probably in his fifties. He appeared very fit, though.

"Gerome McFadden, Dakota. Please call me Jerry for the duration of your stay with us."

He spoke with a clipped tone and Dakota figured that he was ex-military.

"Daddy was in the Royal Artillery, a Colonel, but he retired just last year," Sinead explained. "This is my mum: Beatrice."

"Hello, Dakota. Call me Bea. Welcome to our home."

"Thank you – it's an amazing house," Dakota replied.

"For you, it is a home," Jerry McFadden confirmed with a friendly smile.

* * *

 ** _That night_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Does it hurt?"

"No, Kaitlin," Charlotte laughed.

The three girls and Sasha sat on Charlotte's bed in their pyjamas (Note: the girls were in pyjamas, not the dog!). Kaitlin's eyes had focussed on the small black box strapped to Charlotte's left ankle.

"How long have you been wearing it?" Kaitlin persisted.

"This one? Since yesterday. I wore one for about a month, but it held explosives, so it was swapped before we flew over."

"Explosives!" Naomi exclaimed.

"Hit Girl's idea of keeping us from escaping," Charlotte growled.

"Yes – that sounds about right, I think," Naomi confirmed. "She has a flair for the dramatic, that Hit Girl!"

"It makes me feel bad, wearing it, but I suppose that's what I deserve."

"I'm sure they'll remove it soon," Kaitlin said. "Look, let's not talk about it again, right?"

Naomi nodded, and the conversation brightened up considerably.

"How old are you?" Kaitlin asked.

"I'm twelve and my birthday is on the first day of February. I'm a Phase 2 _Predator_ and I was in the Fourth Intake."

"What caused that scar?" Kaitlin asked.

"This?" Charlotte asked as she pulled up her pyjama to reveal the scar across her stomach. "Fury."

"Fury did that?" Naomi asked.

"Yes. She looked after me, and she treated my wound, keeping me alive until help came. I count her as a friend, now."

"Okay, girls!" Cassie announced. "It's time for bed. You two have school in the morning."

"What about Charlotte?" Kaitlin demanded.

"Let the poor girl settle in, please, Kaitlin. Now, bed!"

Kaitlin and Naomi said goodnight to Charlotte and they ran through to their own beds. Sasha jumped down and sauntered off to join Naomi for the night.

"You okay?" Cassie asked Charlotte as the girl slipped under the duvet.

"Yes – thanks for taking me in, Cassie."

"No problem, Charlotte. Sleep tight."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Monday, December 5th_**

 ** _Marchmont Crescent, Edinburgh_**

Amber Dawson was not happy.

Her minder had ordered her to pack and then told her to obey those who came for her. Nothing else. She was worried that her life of comfort was about to come crashing down. The twelve-year-old had been enjoying her house arrest, but that was ending, and she was about to embark on the unknown. She followed instructions and she packed all that she possessed, including her collective detective work on _Vengeance_. She found the safehouse empty and her minders gone. It was eerie and a little disconcerting as she had had somebody with her all the time for weeks.

Her new minder arrived half an hour later.

..._...

It was a young woman: in her early twenties, Amber thought.

"Hello, Amber. I am Natasha King, and I am offering you a home."

"I thought that I was under arrest?"

"You were, but we are offering you a new start – should you want it."

"Okay."

Amber picked up her holdall and she followed the woman out of the house which had been her prison for over two months. They walked down the road and her holdall was taken from her and shoved into the boot of a Jaguar saloon.

"Get in," Natasha suggested.

Very soon, they were headed out of Edinburgh and making for Falkirk or Stirling, Amber figured by the road signs. They drove for a while before they pulled through a set of electronically-activated wrought iron gates. The house beyond was large and spread over two floors. After climbing out of the Jaguar, somewhat shakily, Amber was handed her holdall and she followed Natasha into the house.

"Hello, Amber," a jovial voice offered. The voice belonged to a young man. "Did my sister scare you with her driving? I'm Cameron."

"Hi. Maybe a little – she drives a bit fast and I'm sure we went through several red lights," Amber replied.

"The lights were amber – just like you," Natasha laughed.

"Very droll!" Amber growled.

"While we're on the subject of colours," Cameron commented as he waved forward a girl who was a little older than Amber. "This is Scarlett. Scarlett, this is Amber."

"Hi," Amber said.

"Scarlett, would you show Amber to her bedroom, please?" Natasha asked.

"This way," Scarlett muttered.

* * *

 ** _The same morning_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

The house was blissfully quiet.

"It's very quiet," Charlotte commented as she ate her breakfast.

"You noticed!" Alexandra chuckled. "The girls make a lot of noise, I can tell you."

"I noticed – even Sasha looks relieved," Charlotte replied.

"Now, is there anything you need from the shops? Do you need any feminine items?"

"Huh?"

"Tampons, panty liners – those sorts of things," Alexandra clarified for the mortified youngster.

"No – nothing like that. I've not started my periods."

Alexandra simply smiled.

"No problem. I've had two daughters who are now grown up, so I like to be prepared."

"Thanks for asking," Charlotte grinned. "Are you going shopping?"

"Yes. I'm off to Tesco in Stirling."

"Can I come?"

"Of course."

* * *

 ** _That afternoon_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"What's that smell?" Naomi asked as they rushed into the house after school.

"Has somebody been baking?" Kaitlin enquired, her nose sniffing wildly.

"No idea – I've been out all day," Cassie replied, just as intrigued by the smells coming from the kitchen.

"Hello, girls!" Alexandra called out as she heard the door slamming. "Tea will be ready in a few minutes, with a surprise afterwards."

"What's the surprise?" Kaitlin demanded.

"It wouldn't be a surprise, then, would it, doofus!" Naomi retorted.

Kaitlin scowled.

"Go get out of your uniforms, please," Cassie directed.

..._...

By the time the two girls entered the kitchen, they were ravenous.

They found Cassie, Alexandra, and Charlotte waiting for them. The kitchen table was laid ready for a meal. That was different. Normally, they just grabbed a plate of food and sat down randomly to eat, even taking their food through to the living room to watch TV.

"Please sit down," Charlotte suggested.

Both girls followed instructions and they took their seats.

"We have real spaghetti bolognaise with garlic baguettes," Alexandra advised Cassie, Naomi, and Kaitlin. "All the cooking has been undertaken by Charlotte, here. She is an amazing cook."

Charlotte blushed a little as all eyes rested on her for several moments while she placed a plate stacked high with garlic baguette slices.

"It smells wonderful, Charlotte," Cassie had her admitted before she turned to Kaitlin. "Kaitlin, would you tuck your napkin into your collar, please."

Kaitlin growled as Naomi giggled. However, Kaitlin followed instructions, dutifully tucking her napkin into the collar of her blouse as a large plate, piled high with perfect spaghetti and topped off with a steaming pile of bolognaise which itself was topped off by a small sprig of parsley. Naomi received an identical plate, as did Cassie and Alexandra. Charlotte placed down a final plate for herself before sitting down with a broad grin on her face.

"Dig in!" Charlotte announced.

Everybody did exactly that, and there was silence for almost ten minutes as everybody ate.

..._...

Charlotte was among the first to finish her plate of food and she looked around apprehensively as others finished their own plates.

She was very pleased to see that everybody's plate was almost empty as the final morsels were mopped up with the final pieces of garlic bread. She also saw smiles all around.

"That was really good," Kaitlin commented as she wiped her mouth with the mucky napkin draped over her front.

"Oh, yeah – that hit the spot," Naomi added.

"Well done, Charlotte," Cassie congratulated the grinning youngster.

"What's for pudding?" Kaitlin demanded.

"You still have room left after putting all that away?" Cassie asked.

"Of course; I'm a growing girl!" Kaitlin retorted.

Charlotte looked over at Alexandra who nodded and the girl jumped up. Alexandra swept up the dirty plates, clearing the decks for pudding.

..._...

"O-M-G!" Naomi squealed.

The most enormous slice of chocolate pudding had just been placed before her in a bowl, surrounded by lashings of steaming chocolate custard. Kaitlin was grinning enormously, and her eyes were almost popping out with anticipation.

"Charlotte made the chocolate sponge while I did the custard," Alexandra explained.

Naomi took one mouthful of the chocolate sponge and custard before groaning. She looked over at Charlotte.

"This is gorgeous, Charlotte!" the nine-year-old exclaimed. "I want to have your babies."

"A biological impossibility," Cassie pointed out between spoonfuls.

"Thank God!" Charlotte laughed.

..._...

After the successful dinner, Charlotte was allowed to relax in the living room while Naomi and Kaitlin loaded the dishwasher – a task both hated, but they let it slide after the amazing meal.

Charlotte looked up from a couch as Cassie entered the living room wrapped around a man.

"Who might this be?" Andrew asked pleasantly.

"This is Charlotte – she's twelve," Cassie explained.

"Charlotte," Naomi chipped in as she followed Cassie. "This is Andrew, Cassie's fuck buddy . . . I know: 'pound in the jar'!"

"Andrew is my fiancé," Cassie clarified.

"Hello, Charlotte," Andrew said.

"Does he. . .?" Charlotte ventured.

"Yes, he knows that you are a _Predator_ , and yes, he also knows what a _Predator_ is," Cassie replied.

"Oh."

"Have no fear, Charlotte; I don't judge," Andrew said.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Tuesday, December 6th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

It was the first time that Charlotte and Dakota had seen each other since the weekend.

They both hugged each other before sitting down side-by-side on a couch together. Sinead and Cassie just grinned. Both were very happy with their new charges. Sinead spoke first.

"Okay, girls! The honeymoon is over!"

The expressions on the girls' faces were priceless, but that quickly changed as Cassie spoke a single word.

"School!"

The expressions changed as the girls exchanged a look and they both looked scared. Both pulled up the left leg of their jeans.

"Please don't send us to school – not with these," Dakota bleated as she indicated her ankle monitor.

"It's going to be hard enough without everybody judging us from day one," Charlotte added.

"Do you really think that we are that cold?" Sinead demanded.

Cassie brought over a small step-stool and she placed it down before Dakota.

"Leg!" Cassie announced.

Dakota placed her foot onto the stool and Cassie removed the ankle monitor, passing it to Sinead. Dakota rubbed her ankle and she smiled happily.

"Leg!" Cassie repeated as she moved the step-stool in front of Charlotte.

Charlotte grinned as her own ankle monitor was removed, however, the happiness was short lived.

"We are trusting you both. Remember, you fuck up, those monitors go straight back on," Cassie commented and the smiles vanished.

"Do you both understand?" Sinead asked in her command voice.

"Yes, ma'am," both girls responded.

"I don't think you do," Sinead went on. "You will follow all instructions given to you. You will do as you are told at all times. There will be a curfew which will be inviolable. There will be limits to your freedom. You will keep your mobile phones on your person at all times – except for things like PE, swimming, and showering. You will both think BEFORE you do ANYTHING. Now, DO YOU BOTH UNDERSTAND?"

The final words were a bellow which made both girls jump and Cassie could see that Sinead's comments had hit home – just as intended.

"Yes, ma'am," both girls responded, clearly and loudly.

Cassie reached behind the couch and she retrieved two suit carriers.

"Charlotte, this one's yours . . . and that makes the other one, yours, Dakota. Both of you, upstairs, and get changed, please."

The two girls grinned as they ran off.

..._...

Sinead and Cassie were talking between themselves while they waited for the two girls to return.

Their speech had been planned and the result had been just as expected. Both trusted the girls, but they knew that temptation would always be there, and it would be easy for them to go astray. The girls were back in about fifteen minutes, both dressed in their new school uniforms which matched those worn by Naomi and Kaitlin. Dakota grinned as she twirled for Sinead and Cassie.

"I've not worn a skirt in years – it feels strange," she commented.

"Feels good," Charlotte added.

"You both look perfect," Cassie commented, and Sinead nodded.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

Charlotte froze as she entered the kitchen to find a tall man hugging Alexandra and Cassie.

"Hello, young lady . . . and who might you be?" the man asked as he turned to the new arrival.

The man wore the uniform of a Royal Navy Captain with four gold stripes on his sleeves topped off by a gold curl. On his left breast, the man sported seven medal ribbons arranged in two horizontal rows. Visible on the adjacent countertop was a white-topped officer's cap with gold braid on the peak.

"I am Charlotte Grey, sir."

"Is that so. Welcome to the Perrin home."

"Thank you, sir."

"I think we can dispense with the 'sir', Charlotte. It is obvious that you are very polite, however, you are not a member of my crew and I am here for some peace. . ."

There was a roar of sound as a screaming Kaitlin bolted through the kitchen, closely followed by Naomi who was raging and yelling obscenities at Kaitlin.

"Welcome home, Captain!" Kaitlin yelled as she vanished from sight.

"And quiet. . ." Captain Richard Perrin finished. "Please call me Richard."

Charlotte giggled quietly.

"I assume you've met the delightful Kaitlin and Naomi?"

"I have," Charlotte confirmed.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Wednesday, December 7th_**

 ** _Beaconhurst School_**

The two girls stayed together as far as they could in the strange environment.

However, both received a nasty shock as they rounded a corner and Charlotte laid eyes on a girl who looked very familiar. Dakota had seen the girl as well.

"You!" Dakota exploded.

"Ah!" Olivia commented as the penny dropped – she knew that the two girls were starting school that morning, but she had forgotten about Chicago. "Don't make a scene, 'kay?"

"We saw you raped!" Charlotte hissed.

"You were all but naked," Dakota pointed out, but then she focussed on a boy just behind Olivia. "You bastard!"

"No – you've got it all wrong," Craig tried.

"Sorry, girls – it was a put up," Olivia said quickly.

"You allowed yourself to be raped!?" Dakota demanded quietly.

"Craig's my boyfriend," Olivia admitted. "I'm Olivia, by the way. As for Chicago – well, HG has a sense of humour!"

"You know who we are?" Charlotte ventured.

"Yes. You are Charlotte and Dakota. Yes, Craig and I know about what you are – we know Naomi and Kaitlin."

"Okay."

"Anything you need – you let one of us know, right?" Olivia finished.


	55. Nightshade

**_Cape Wrath  
Northern Scotland_**

The helicopter appeared almost black as it flew through the looming darkness.

The forward air traffic controllers on Cape Wrath struggled to see the large machine before it flew directly over them, the giant 9.3-metre diameter five-bladed main rotor threatening to blast them over the cliffs into the raging North Sea beneath.

 _"Nightshade, Nightshade, Nightshade, this is Cape Wrath on Range Safety Channel. Over."_

"Cape Wrath, this is Nightshade. Standing by. Over."

 _"Nightshade. Range is clear. Weapons free. Good hunting. Cape Wrath out."_

Aboard Nightshade, the co-pilot began to set his switches on the extended centre console which separated the two pilots.

"Master Arm is on. Pylon two selected, station three, for CRV7 rockets," he announced.

"Confirm Master Arm is on for CRV7," the pilot replied as she pulled the fourteen-tonne flying machine around in a hard right bank.

"First target coming into range – have it on FLIR," the co-pilot advised as the second of the five full colour, widescreen flat panels which were spread across the cockpit showed a washed-out image of what could only be a tank.

It was a tank – an old Centurion main battle tank, long abandoned to target practice.

"Cleared hot!" the co-pilot directed as he locked the targeting system onto the tank. "Three-round salvo."

The pilot studied her heads-up-display where a red circle had appeared and as the circle shrunk in size, she squeezed the trigger on her cyclic and with a roar and a flash, three 2.75-inch rockets left the nineteen-round cylindrical launcher on the starboard side of the aircraft and immediately deployed their folded wings, accelerating into the gloom. Within seconds, the FLIR image bloomed as one after the other, the three rockets impacted their targets and the warheads detonated.

 _"Target! Target! Target!"_ came the response from the Range Safety Officer, indicating direct hits.

The pilot grinned as she turned towards the next target.

..._...

The second target was a fast-moving watercraft somewhere amongst the heaving waves two thousand feet below the helicopter.

Raptor adjusted the Seaspray 7000E AESA (Active Electronically Scanned Array) radar which was nestled in the nose of the helicopter. The long-range search was activated in small target mode, the processors identifying contacts and automatically ignoring returns from the wave caps or the nearby cliffs. The watercraft would most probably be a Royal Marine Offshore Raiding Craft – nobody else would have the balls to be out on such a night, he reasoned.

"Contact!" Raptor announced. "Four miles, bearing . . . three-two-two!"

Scorpion increased forward speed and she dropped the helicopter down to obscure herself in the ground clutter from the waves. The ORC had radar, but only surface search, so she only needed to hide from the human eyeball. Just as Scorpion was beginning to think that the exercise was very one-sided, along came a curveball.

"Active J-Band radar . . . designated as CAPTOR!" Raptor reported as his instruments lit up with a tracking warning. "Bandit, two o'clock high!"

"So," Scorpion replied. "The Crabs are coming out to play . . . let's show them what _Vengeance_ is all about."

Scorpion had her work cut out to avoid the supersonic fighter aircraft which was fitted with the highly advanced CAPTOR-M radar as well as PIRATE electro-optical guidance system. The three engines atop the helicopter burned hot and would be easy for PIRATE to spot from above.

"Tracking lock!"

Scorpion advanced the throttles to maximum, pushing the helicopter to over 160-knots IAS.

"Going air-to-air," Raptor commented as his gloved hands ran over the radar controls. "Bringing ASRAAM online."

On the left pylon, an ASRAAM training round was fitted to the outer point of the weapons' pylon. The missile had a functional seeker, but no rocket motor. As the seeker scanned the sky ahead of it, Scorpion heard beeps in her helmet, then after several seconds, she heard a rapid tone as the missile seeker found something hotter than the surrounding sky. . . then came a single tone.

"I have tone!" Scorpion announced as she squeezed her trigger as Raptor got on the radio.

"Nightshade, fox two! Nightshade, fox two!"

 _"Bollocks!"_ came an annoyed voice over the radio twenty seconds later. _"Nightshade has a kill!"_

The controllers calculated the odds of a kill and radioed the 'dead' aircraft as necessary. It was not a proper test as neither aircraft was fitted with the correct equipment, but it gave Nightshade and her crew the relevant training for the moment. Testing the aircraft's systems was critical as it was a prototype and unique in the world of military aviation.

"Copy kill – Nightshade out!" Raptor acknowledged.

Raptor quickly readjusted his radar to bring up the position of their surface target. The radar had remembered the previous contact and it was simple for Scorpion to follow the prompts on her heads-up-display. There it was, a small contact, just one mile away.

"Tracking!" Raptor announced.

They were not authorised to attack the target with their rockets or missiles, so as they streaked overhead, Scorpion triggered off an even dozen flares, scaring the living daylights out of the four Royal Marines aboard the ORC.

 _"Knock it off! Knock it off!"_

Scorpion rose to five thousand feet and she levelled off on a heading of zero-nine-zero – the exercise was over.

* * *

 ** _Earlier that day  
Saturday, December 10th, 2016_**

 ** _RAF LOSSIEMOUTH_**

Keira was struggling to comprehend what lay before her.

Almost 8,000 shaft horsepower. Capacity for two crew and thirty passengers. Ability to mount machine guns, missiles, rockets – the potential was endless. The giant three-turbine helicopter shimmered with a vibrant pearlescent paint overall but with a light grey underside. The five-bladed main rotor towered over four metres above the ground but even that was topped by the tail rotor at the far end of the over nineteen-metre fuselage which topped off at 6.6-metres above the ground. To the port-side, immediately behind the state-of-the-art glass cockpit, an air-stair allowed easy access into the main cabin. The first seat faced the air-stair and the forward hatch – that was for a crew-member or for a pilot to rest. After passing through a curtained bulkhead, there were four seats, two per side of the aisle, each pair facing the other across a folding table. Aft of them, to port, four seats faced inboard while four more seats sat to starboard, two facing aft, and two facing forward, each pair facing the other. The leather seats were a tasteful light grey and fully crashworthy. All told, there was seating for thirteen, plus the two pilots. Further aft, past the seating, there was a small toilet and a galley before you reached a cargo storage area and the aft ramp.

The aircraft was a hybrid. It was ostensibly a VVIP version of the venerable Augusta-Westland AW.101 Merlin, however, integrated beneath its skin and fancy paintwork, the electronics and capabilities of the Combat Search and Rescue (CSaR) version could be found. That included the ability to mount weapons pylons, additional fuel tanks, cabin-mounted machineguns and miniguns, as well as radar and FLIR. It was a genuine wolf in sheep's clothing. With a growing smirk, Keira tried to rid herself of an image from her childhood – another helicopter which had been a wolf in sheep's clothing: Airwolf. Unlike the fictitious Airwolf, the Merlin could carry passengers in a high level of comfort, or it could be stripped out to carry up to thirty troops or a combination of troops and light attack vehicles.

As Keira walked around the helicopter after striding down the aft ramp beneath the tail boom, she met up with Trevor who was to be her co-pilot for the check-ride.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Sunday, December 11th_**

 ** _Edinburgh Airport_**

It was the first official use of the aircraft which was officially registered to a British company, Convey Limited with the registration: G-CNVY.

Unofficially, the aircraft belonged to _Vengeance_ and bore the military registration: ZJ998. The aircraft had begun life at the Westland Helicopters Limited factory in Yeovil, England, as a Dutch Mk.512 Merlin known as M-509 at the end of February 2006. It had a short career, just a year, as a Dutch rescue helicopter before being returned to Westland Helicopters Limited (as it was then) in June 2007 and refurbished for use with the Royal Air Force as a Merlin HC.3A transport helicopter. Then, in 2014, all active Merlin helicopters were handed over to the Royal Navy as part of its Commando Helicopter Force. Latterly, the helicopter was converted to the latest Merlin HC.4 standard towards the end of October 2016, before undergoing further work to convert it into a prototype covert support helicopter for use with _Vengeance_.

As such, _Vengeance_ had taken custody of the £20million helicopter that very Saturday.

..._...

"Oooo!" Kaitlin exclaimed as she entered the main cabin.

"Very nice!" Naomi agreed.

"I could get used to this," Cassie chuckled.

"Everybody buckle up, please!" Keira called out from the cockpit.

For the trip that morning, she would be flying the massive helicopter solo with the help of David as Trevor would be piloting _TWILIGHT_. Both helicopters would be flying heavy as there were twenty-four people to be transported that day. _NIGHTSHADE_ would carry fifteen, including the pilots while _TWILIGHT_ would carry the balance of nine. The flight would be short, about thirty-five minutes. Both helicopters took off and headed north in a loose formation. As they flew across the Forth Estuary, they altered course onto a heading of 003.7-degrees. They flew east of Perth and then over the summit of the 3,789-foot Lochnagar before descending and curving around the west side of Cairn-na-Cuimhne and flaring for a formation landing on the west lawn. None of the kids had been told where they were going – they were provided with smart clothing and told to brush their hair, but that had been that.

Keira and Trevor changed in the back of _NIGHTSHADE_ – flight suits were not suitable for their intended destination.

* * *

 ** _Balmoral Castle  
Royal Deeside, Aberdeenshire_**

For probably the very first time in her life, Kaitlin had nothing to say.

She gazed up at the towering building as they stepped off the helicopters. A few yards away, they were being watched by eight men, all dressed in suits. Kaitlin looked around at her friends as they joined her. She had never seen everyone looking so smart. Keira, David, Trevor, and Sarah were all wearing their relevant military uniforms, all of whom, except for Sarah, were still in the Reserves. Captain Trevor Lai, Army Air Corps, in his British Army uniform, was severally outnumbered by Lieutenant Keira Sharp, Sub-Lieutenant Sarah Perrin, and Chief Petty Officer David Montgomery, all of the Royal Navy. Jasper, Eric, Cameron, Craig, Jeremy, Christopher, and Adrien all wore smart suits. The women; Alexandra, Amy, Lynn, Natasha, Cassie, Marinette, and Alya, plus all the girls; Olivia, Jessica, Naomi, Harper, Kaitlin, and Yvette, wore smart dresses with white gloves. Yes, the French Honneur team had flown in, just that morning for the trip.

As Kaitlin turned back towards the castle, she smiled as she saw two girls in immaculate dresses striding towards them.

..._...

"Kaitlin!"

"Hi, Electra!" Kaitlin replied before she curtsied. "Hello, Your Royal Highness."

Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of Kintyre and Lorne grimaced. She hated being treated like something special by her very special friends. However, Kaitlin was right – for a change – they all had to behave very properly when at one of the Royal Palaces . . . as she herself well knew. After a few more curtsies, and more grimaces from Mary, the large group were led towards the Castle by the armed men in suits.

They passed inside and after following corridor after corridor, they were led into the Ballroom.

..._...

As the group stepped into the enormous room, they were met by a woman of indeterminate age wearing a smart dress.

"Welcome, _Vengeance_."

Just about everybody recognised the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom as she smiled at them. A man with a very snooty expression strode over to face _Vengeance_.

"Her Majesty will be with us very soon. When she arrives, you will each be called up, one by one. Do not dilly-dally. Do not talk. Walk up to Her Majesty, bow or curtsy, then stand absolutely still. Her Majesty, in her own time, will affix your decoration and congratulate you. You will bow or curtsy, before turning to your right and walking back to your seat. There will be _no_ skipping, jumping, dancing, or any equally frivolous behaviour. Do _not_ turn your back on the Monarch. Please take your seats as allocated by the ushers. Thank you."

The man moved off smartly and two men in morning-suits appeared as if from nowhere to direct each person to a seat to await Her Majesty. Everybody was apprehensive – all except for Mary, of course, who was not feeling out of her depth. To an extent, David Montgomery was familiar with events having received his Distinguished Service Medal from Her Majesty back in the early nineties.

"Take it easy," Mary offered to her friends. "Gran is perfectly friendly."

..._...

Minutes later, the ushers indicated for everyone to stand, mere seconds before a pair of Gurkha Orderly Officers entered the room.

The Officers were followed by Mary's father, Prince Robert, who smiled at _Vengeance_ as reassuringly as he could. Next, there came the Lord Steward and his Equerry. They were closely followed by Her Majesty the Queen who smiled pleasantly. It was a smile which was both warm and welcoming.

"Please, be seated," she announced as she took her position at the west side of the room. "I wanted this investiture to be as genuine as possible so that you all could enjoy the experience. However, this is your day, so please enjoy it."

There was a nod as the Lord Steward announced the very first name.

"Miss Natasha King; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

Natasha stood up and she walked towards Her Majesty before she curtsied – for the very first time in her eighteen years of life – and she stood with her head bowed.

"Thank you, Miss King, for your services," Her Majesty said quietly as she hung the circular medal onto the hook affixed to the left chest of her dress.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

The thirty-six-millimetre diameter circular medal was silver with the crowned effigy of The Queen on the obverse. The rear of the medal bore the image of St Edwards's Crown above the words: 'The Queen's Gallantry Medal' in four lines flanked by laurel sprigs. The 1.25-inch ribbon was of three equal stripes of dark blue, pearl grey, and dark blue with a narrow rose-pink stripe in the centre.

With a smile, Her Majesty gently shook Natasha's hand. Natasha took the signal and she stood, took a step back, and curtsied once more before turning to her right and walking around the room back to her seat. She was barely three feet from Her Majesty before the next name was announced.

"Mr Cameron King; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

..._...

The names were called, and the medals were invested.

"Mr Eric Cunningham; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

"Miss Cassandra Perrin; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

"Mr Eric Cunningham; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

Then came the first investiture for the younger members.

"Miss Harper Sharp; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

The nine-year-old struggled to her feet and she hobbled over to Her Majesty before executing a somewhat wobbly curtsey, but a curtsey nonetheless. The Queen smiled as the young girl stood up straight.

"Thank you, Miss Sharp. Your sacrifice for this country has been bodily, and I warmly thank you for your service."

Harper grinned, enormously, as the medal was hung from her upper chest and the young girl swelled with pride. The Queen shook her hand and the girl turned to her right and made way for the next name.

"Master Craig Montgomery; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

Craig was followed by, "Miss Naomi Perrin; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!" and "Miss Kaitlin Perrin; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!" Then, there came a very special announcement.

"Miss Electra Haig; the George Medal for actions in the face of grave danger and for services to The Queen, The Country, and The Royal Family!"

The diminutive ten-year-old meekly stood and walked over to Her Majesty.

..._...

The Queen smiled very warmly, indeed, as the youngster approached and curtsied perfectly.

"Hello, Electra."

"Ma'am."

"I am very happy to be able to invest you with his medal. You put yourself in the line of fire and you protected my granddaughter. There are no words which can assuage what you went through. Thank you."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The humbled Electra grinned as the medal was invested. The thirty-six-millimetre diameter circular medal was silver with the crowned effigy of The Queen on the obverse. The reverse of the medal bore the image of St George on horseback, slaying the dragon on the coast of England with the legend: 'The George Medal' around the top edge of the medal. The 1.25-inch ribbon was crimson with five narrow blue stripes.

"Good luck, Electra."

..._...

Christopher, Jeremy, Olivia, and Jessica followed, each receiving the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country.

The four visitors from France were feeling very humbled by their experience, as they each received the same medal for their services to Queen and Country. Next came the two MI5 agents who had helped _Vengeance_ , despite their own organisation actively hunting the vigilantes. Debbie Grey and Jack Foster both received the same medal for their services, and they were very happy to have been invited to the investiture.

Jasper and Lynn followed, both receiving the QGM. Alexandra and Amy each received the Queen's Commendation for Bravery. Finally, it was the turn of the uniformed members of the armed forces to receive their medals.

"Lieutenant Keira Sharp, Royal Navy; the Distinguished Flying Cross for valour and devotion to duty in the skies during operations against those who deem to do The Country harm!"

Keira rose and strode over to Her Majesty, stopping and curtseying.

"Good work, Lieutenant. It cannot have been easy for you, after the loss of your sister."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

The decoration was a cross flory, 2.5-inches wide. The horizontal and bottom bars are terminated with bumps, the upper bar with a rose. The decoration's face features aeroplane propellers superimposed on the vertical arms of the cross and wings on the horizontal arms. The ribbon was white with purple broad diagonal stripes.

"Captain Trevor Lai, Army Air Corps; the Distinguished Flying Cross for valour and devotion to duty in the skies during operations against those who deem to do The Country harm!"

For Trevor, it was his second award of the DFC and as such, he would gain a Bar to his previous award.

..._...

"Sub-Lieutenant Sarah Perrin, Royal Navy; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

Sarah grinned happily as she walked up and curtsied. The Queen hung the medal.

"You have demonstrated exactly what our armed forces are all about, Miss Perrin. You have shown integrity and bravery beyond your rank, and I thank you for your loyalty to The Crown.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Chief Petty Officer David Montgomery, Royal Navy; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to Queen and Country!"

The Chief proudly strode up before bowing to Her Majesty.

"I believe that we have met before, Chief," The Queen commented as she noticed the DSM ribbon on the Chief's chest.

"Yes, Ma'am, 1990."

" _Vengeance_ is lucky to have you."

"Definitely, Ma'am."

"Keep up the good work, Chief."

"Yes, Ma'am, and thank you."

..._...

"There are two final investitures," Her Majesty announced. "The first is to someone who has suffered more than most, having had to endure more than two years of looking after a veritable monster."

Mary was seen to scowl.

"Sergeant Ginny Turner of the Royalty and Specialist Protection Branch; the Queen's Gallantry Medal for services to The Queen, The Country, and The Royal Family!"

Mary struggled not to cheer as Ginny walked up to the Queen and curtsied in her smart trouser-suit.

"You have suffered, Sergeant," Her Majesty chuckled.

"Thank you, Ma'am, it has been an adventure."

"Very diplomatic, as always, Sergeant."

Ginny returned to her seat as The Queen began to speak.

"Last, but not least, a very special award," The Queen announced with a nod toward the Lord Steward who called out one last name.

"Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of Kintyre and Lorne; the Royal Family Order of Queen Elizabeth the Second!"

The thirteen-year-old Princess hesitated for a moment, unsure of what was happening. She had not expected to be involved in the investiture at all. Nonetheless, she very quickly gathered herself together and she strode up to her stand before her grandmother before executing a perfect curtsy, just like the hundreds she had performed since she was just three-years-old.

"Mary. You are very special to me and you have grown into a remarkable young woman. Your father put you in charge of a very important mission – one which ultimately saved the country as we know it, and also saved the lives of my son and yourself. Your selfless acts have not been without sacrifice, but you quite literally fought through everything which stood in your way. As such, I am investing you with an award that no other has ever received at your tender age."

With that, The Queen affixed a chartreuse yellow ribbon to the shocked youngster. The Royal Family Order depicted a young Queen Elizabeth II in evening dress wearing the ribbon and star of the Order of the Garter. The miniature, painted on ivory, was bordered by diamonds and surmounted by a Tudor Crown in diamonds and red enamel. The reverse, in silver-gilt, was patterned with rays and depicted the Royal Cypher and the St Edward's Crown in gold and enamel. The watered silk ribbon was chartreuse yellow and formed into a bow.

Mary was pulled into a hug by her grandmother who smiled proudly.

..._...

After the final award to Mary, the atmosphere changed dramatically as footmen appeared with trays of food and drink.

There were no cucumber sandwiches or fancy beverages in delicate china, no, The Queen was worldly-wise, and she had taken the required advice and the food was less delicate and much tastier. There were also fizzy drinks, something The Queen usually abhorred, but she was a modern Queen, and it was not her day. She watched as the kids dug into the food, all of them with happy smiling faces. The Queen loved seeing her granddaughter happy, and the Princess' enormous smile as she talked to her friends was wonderful to behold.

Also watching from the sidelines, was Commander Patrick Haig who was immensely proud of his own granddaughter. It had not been all that long since the little girl had re-entered his life, but every minute together had been cherished by not only him but his son and his grandson. How Electra had landed on her feet after such a traumatic experience, he could not fathom. His granddaughter was best friends with a Princess of the Realm, The Queen's own Granddaughter.

"You must be very proud, Commander."

"I am, Your Royal Highness," Commander Haig replied to Prince Robert. "As must you be."

"More than you could ever think," the Prince confided. "I worried about Mary. I worried about how she might develop without a mother. She surprised me with how she has coped with events and I am so very proud."

"I am certain your wife would have been very proud of how you have kept her on the right path, sir."

"I hope so. Daughters are not the easiest to bring up."

Commander Haig chuckled.

"You can say that again, sir."

..._...

Mary was having the time of her life.

To have her friends to visit her in her normal environment was a dream come true. She struggled to behave like she should, not wanting to embarrass her father, her grandmother, nor her own title. She was still partially stunned by her own decoration. She knew full well what it meant and how important it was to both herself and her father. She wished that her mother could have been there, but that was something which was not to be.

All her friends were happy and smiling, a far cry from a few months ago. Then they had been fleeing and fighting for their very existence. Mary could remember the fear. She could remember the pain of waiting for her friends to return to safety. She could remember the pain as she was punched to the mat and thrown down, again and again. The training had been hard – very hard – but it had been necessary, and she was grateful to her father for allowing it. She had killed to save her father, and she would do it again, should the need arise. Her best friend had taken two bullets for her – that was something which had created a bond between her and Electra. Whilst in Chicago, Mary had noticed another bond; that between Electra and the girl called Stephanie. There was something very deep between them.

After almost an hour, the Prime Minister approached the uniformed officers and she smiled warmly as she stopped before the most junior officer.

..._...

The sounds of chatter subsided as all eyes turned onto the Prime Minister.

"Sub-Lieutenant Sarah Perrin, in recognition of your superlative naval instincts under fire, and under instruction from their Lordships at the Admiralty, I am very pleased to be able to promote you, effective immediately. Congratulations: Lieutenant Perrin."

After the applause and cheering had subsided, the Prime Minister continued.

"Lieutenant Keira Sharp, in recognition of your unswerving command and piloting ability in the face of extreme adversity, and under instruction from their Lordships at the Admiralty, you are gaining your half stripe, effective immediately. Congratulations: Lieutenant-Commander Sharp."

The two officers grinned as they considered their promotions. For Sarah, she could not wait to tell her father who she knew would be very pleased to see his daughter well on her way into her naval career. The promotion included a hefty pay rise, too, as well as more responsibility and a new posting. For Keira, it was a happy event. Yes, the pay rise was nice, but gaining the rank was a major step, considering her fluidity of service at that point in time. Keira could see Harper grinning proudly and they both exchanged a glance of pride and happiness.

Harper then looked very shy as The Queen headed her way.

..._...

"Miss Sharp," Her Majesty began.

"Mary has informed me, quite graphically, about what you endured. I had hoped that a lot of it was the result of her very overactive imagination, however, the Prime Minister has confirmed that Mary's accounts are disturbingly accurate. It sickens me that such events could occur within the borders of this country. You were taken while you were protecting my son and my errant granddaughter from harm. As such, I feel partially responsible for what you went through. You have my thanks, Harper, and you also have my thanks for the training which you forced upon said errant granddaughter. Without that training, she would not be alive today, and neither would my son. I hope that you recover fully from your injuries, both within and without."

Harper was rarely lost for words, but she was totally speechless and as such she could only mumble one word in return.

"Thanks."

..._...

It was getting very close to the end of the afternoon.

The ushers gathered everybody together for a final speech by the Prime Minister.

"Her Majesty and my Government wish to thank you all for what you did to prevent something unthinkable. You saved my life. You saved the life of the Prince and his daughter. You saved this country from dire consequences. Despite being hunted, you remained true to your morals and you ran the source of the troubles to ground. I have to apologise for the delays in Wales, however, those behind those delays have met justice."

Jasper, Cameron, and Natasha grinned.

"Please continue to cooperate with our security services in protecting this country and her possessions, both at home and abroad. You are all a credit to this fine nation. Great Britain has never allowed itself to be overridden by tyranny and we shall not start now. I would also like to take this opportunity to apologise to all you _Predators_ for what your government allowed to happen. I was appalled the very first time that I read a file entitled ' _Urban Predator_ ', and I had to read that same file several times to convince myself that it was all true. Having spoken with the Princess, I understand that you are all very special youngsters, who have each been hurt in your own unique ways. I am very pleased that you have all been able to find families and some have even been able to return to their own kin. After the battle, I received some very favourable reports on you all from a Captain Sinead McFadden and her men. It is not often that _anybody_ receives such glowing reports from the Royal Marines. It is even rarer for those same Royals to gain the levels of respect which they have for _Vengeance_. You have the respect of us all and your country thanks you for everything which you have done."

There was a round of applause for _Vengeance_ from all present.

..._...

Mary, Electra, and her father stood to watch the helicopters depart.

The two girls were sad to see their friends departing but depart they must. They too were due to head south and back to school. It had been an amazing day and one which would never be forgotten. As the helicopters vanished from sight, The Queen stopped beside the girls.

"One day, Electra, I would like to meet the person who trained you," Her Majesty commented. "Stephanie, I believe her name is."

"I owe her everything, Your Majesty. I am in her debt."

"In that case, I owe her the life of my granddaughter, and I am also in her debt."


	56. Great Minds

**_Sunday, December 11th, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

So, what had the other kids been doing while the majority had been visiting The Queen at Balmoral? Sinead had taken custody of them all.

She was at Blairhoyle with the three _Predators_ : Jordan, Charlotte, and Dakota. She also had Diana, Scarlett, and Amber, as well as the two dogs: Sasha and Nika. Sinead had taken an instant liking to the tough-talking Diana; however, she had noticed the scowls as Scarlett and Diana had laid eyes on one another. Keira had warned Sinead about the two girls and how Diana got on with Scarlett, but only to a point. Sinead also knew who Scarlett was.

"Why are you limping so awkwardly?" Charlotte asked Diana without thinking.

"I think I can venture a reason," Jordan responded. "Can I assume that you are missing a few items down below?"

"No, you cannot . . . actually, yes," Diana retorted, thinking he was referring to something else, completely. "You, too?"

"What are they talking about?" Dakota asked.

Sinead knew, but the two older girls were stunned to see Jordan and Diana reveal three prosthetic limbs.

"Those look awesome!" Jordan exclaimed as he examined Diana's hi-tech lower limbs.

"Yours isn't too bad, neither," Diana added as Jordan pulled up his trousers.

The four older girls were speechless as they watched the prosthetic comparisons. Amber wondered why Scarlett did not mention her own prosthetic limb, but she said nothing. The prosthetic lovefest was, however, brought to a halt as another appeared in the kitchen.

"Right!" Captain Perrin announced in his command voice. "I am Captain Perrin and you all have some tasks ahead of you, today. Those tasks will keep each one of you out of trouble as well as exercising those grey blobs between your ears. We shall see who has intelligence, and who has not – even the Royal Marine here!"

Sinead nodded with a smile at the friendly jibe.

"Morning, Captain."

"Captain."

Both officers chuckled.

"Where's the joke?" Amber demanded. "Why are you calling her 'captain'?"

"Captain McFadden is a decorated Royal Marine, young lady," Captain Perrin advised the girl.

"You're a marine?" Amber asked doubtfully.

"You better believe it!" Dakota growled.

"You think I am wearing this T-shirt for fun?" Sinead responded.

The officer was decked out in a dark green T-shirt bearing the legend '45 COMMANDO ROYAL MARINES' along with a vertical commando dagger with '45' astride the blade.

"Cool!" Amber commented.

Scarlett never said a word, but she frowned at the Royal Marine officer.

"Right – down to the paddock!" Captain Perrin ordered.

..._...

The six youngsters frowned as they entered the paddock which appeared to be adorned with piles of rubbish.

As the two dogs ran off to play and examine the scattered detritus, Captain McFadden guided the kids over to where a decrepit-looking Land Rover Defender 90 looked a little lopsided. The vehicle's rear load bed was open, the canvas cover rolled up and secured to the roll cage. On closer inspection, Charlotte identified the problem.

"It's missing a wheel," she pointed out.

Indeed, the vehicle was missing the wheel from right rear hub and the vehicle sat on its brake drum on the grass.

"Bright girl!" Captain McFadden proclaimed, eliciting a grin from the twelve-year-old.

"Your task is to work as a team and get this vehicle moving again."

"How?" Amber asked.

"That is up to you six," Captain McFadden chuckled.

The six kids looked dumbfounded and Scarlett looked bored. Nobody moved for at least two minutes before Diana stepped forward.

"Okay – we're missing a wheel," she mused. "We need to find the wheel."

"Dur!" Amber responded somewhat derisively.

"She has a point," Scarlett interceded. "Dakota – you search over there. Amber – over there. Jordan – that way. Charlotte – there. Diana – check out the Land Rover for a jack, spanner – that kind of stuff. I'll search over there."

The two captains nodded approvingly as Scarlett appeared to take charge.

..._...

It did not take long for Jordan to find the right-angled wheel brace from the Land Rover.

He ran over to where Diana was rummaging furiously inside the Land Rover's cab.

"I found this!" he proclaimed happily.

"Great!" Diana replied, just as there was a shout from behind them.

Diana and Jordan looked over to where Amber Dawson was hefting an enormous steel wheel with attached tyre out of the grass. The twelve-year-old did not appear too happy to be getting her hands dirty as she was joined by Dakota and they both manhandled the wheel back to the Land Rover.

"We got the wheel and the spanner thingy," Diana announced. "But I couldn't find a jack."

"We never found anything else," Scarlett pointed out. "We can't get the wheel on without a jack."

"This task is impossible to complete," Charlotte scowled.

"Is it?" Captain Perrin replied.

Charlotte thought about it for a moment, then she had a blast of inspiration as she turned back to the disabled Land Rover.

"Did anybody find any wheel nuts?" she asked.

She was greeted by shaking heads as her brain went to work on the problem. They were all looking at it wrong.

"We're looking at what we are missing, not what we have or what we can make use of," she pointed out. "What _do_ we have?"

"We have a crippled Land Rover," Jordan stated.

"We have the missing wheel," Amber added.

"We have the wheel brace," Diana said, holding up said item.

"What else?" Charlotte prompted.

"We have some planks of wood," Scarlett pointed out as she poked into the grass beside the Land Rover.

"We have some large bricks," Dakota added.

"So," Charlotte continued. "What do we need to get the wheel onto the hub?"

"We need to raise the Land Rover up to get the wheel on," Jordan reasoned.

"We'll need nuts to secure the wheel in place," Amber commented.

Charlotte turned towards the officers.

"I assume this is under battle conditions and the vehicle does not need to be one hundred percent roadworthy?"

"Correct, Charlotte!" Captain Perrin responded with a twinkle in his eye.

The emboldened Charlotte dove in.

"Jordan – you and Diana take a nut off each of the existing wheels; just the one," she directed.

"I see how that'll work," Diana commented as she scrambled for the first wheel.

"Could we use the bricks as a fulcrum for the planks to life the Land Rover?" Dakota asked.

"Why not," Charlotte reasoned.

..._...

While Jordan and Diana were struggling to loosen three of the wheel nuts, Scarlett and Dakota moved a pile of bricks close to the rear bumper of the Land Rover.

Two of the planks were three-metres in length while the third was a little under four-metres in length. The youngsters went ahead, and they attempted to use the bricks as a fulcrum for the shorter plank – it worked to a point, but it only lifted the Land Rover up a few inches and nowhere near high enough to fit the wheel.

"Nah!" Dakota complained. "This isn't working."

The five kids looked all around them, hoping for inspiration, or maybe just a conveniently visible car jack. They looked more than a little despondent – they had done everything right up to that point, and they had beaten the problems set before them. They eventually turned to the two grinning captains.

"A little help?" Charlotte tried with a smile.

Captain Perrin chuckled.

"Use your biggest assets, Charlotte," Captain McFadden suggested.

"Assets? You mean my boobs?" Charlotte responded. "I've not got any."

"Boobs _are_ assets, Charlotte, just not the assets you need today," Sinead chuckled.

Charlotte thought that through and then she turned to the assembled kids.

"Jordan . . . and . . . Dakota – we need you at the back of the Land Rover," she called out. "Amber, Diana – grab the wheel. Scarlett – get the wheel nuts."

Her instructions were followed but Jordan and Dakota appeared confused.

"I need your brawn, today," she explained. "Both of you, stand at the back, facing away. Bend your knees and then grip the metal step at the back corner of the Land Rover. When I say 'go', stand up, gripping the step and lift the corner of the Land Rover. Amber, Diana – quickly put the wheel in place. Scarlett, fix the wheel nuts. Ready? Go!"

Jordan and Dakota stood up, their muscles straining as they lifted a corner of the 1.8-tonne vehicle.

"Quick – get the wheel in place . . . good – hold it there while Scarlett fits the three nuts . . . faster Scarlett!"

Scarlett was quick to spin the nuts, only she was doing it one-handed for speed and she struggled a little, but she succeeded.

"Lower it down," Charlotte directed, and the Land Rover rested on all four wheels, much to Dakota and Jordan's relief.

The kids turned at the sound of clapping to find the two captains applauding them.

"Well done!" Captain Perrin announced.

..._...

"You all did very well," Sinead advised the six youngsters.

"I actually enjoyed that," Amber commented.

"Yeah," the others all agreed.

"Anybody thirsty?" Captain Perrin asked, and he received six nods. "Fancy some hot tea?"

Six more nods came from the six kids who were beginning to feel the cold now that they were not running about.

"Go grab a pack from over there," Captain McFadden directed, pointing at a hay bale sixty-yards away.

The kids walked over to the bale, looking very confused and not seeing anything resembling a hot drink. There were five identical backpacks which were picked up by each of the kids before they turned to their instructors.

"Inside the pack, you will find several items: a Trangia stove, a bottle of methylated spirits, a plastic mug, a plastic water bottle containing, guess what? Water! You will also find a ration pack and KFS."

"KFS?" Amber and Charlotte echoed.

"Knife, fork, and spoon," Sinead enlightened the youngsters.

"Oh," Amber scowled.

The kids all sat down with their backpacks and they began to unpack the contents. Diana looked curiously at the pressed steel container she pulled out first – it was circular, about eight inches wide and a few inches tall. It rattled as she shook it. She placed the item down onto the grass and dug into the backpack for more items. Yes, there was a metallic bottle which caused Diana to wrinkle her nose at the smell as she unscrewed the top. She rapidly tightened the top and placed the bottle down beside the Trangia stove. She found a black plastic mug with folding metal handles and a plastic water bottle which she shook – it contained a liquid. Finally, there was indeed a knife, fork, and spoon – they were secured together – and a large cardboard box which was filled with things.

"Can I . . .?" Diana asked curiously.

"Open it," Sinead directed with a smile.

"Property of mod – what's mod?" Amber wanted to know.

"M – O – D," Sinead explained. "Ministry of Defence."

"Oh, right! 24 Hour Ration Pack – 8. This is one of a multiple menu choice and suitable for use on Ops," Amber read from the side of the box.

Both girls were filled with curiosity as they opened their packs and even Scarlett sat down beside Diana with her own box.

..._...

The three _Predators_ had gathered together to root through their own ration packs together.

Once the cardboard had been pulled apart at the top, they began to bring out each item, one at a time. On top, there was a plastic bag with what looked like sachets of things inside.

"That's your brew kit," Sinead advised them.

Charlotte placed her brew kit down on the grass and proceeded to bring out the next items.

"Tropical beverage powder. Apple beverage powder. Mix 45 g powder with 375 ml cold water and stir or shake – sounds easy."

"Hey!" Dakota exclaimed. "I've got peanut butter!"

"Where?" Charlotte asked as she dug around a bit. "Found mine."

"I've got a Fruit Pocket – isn't that a kid's drink?" Jordan asked.

"It's a good way to take fruit into the field with you," Sinead explained. "It's concentrated fruit."

"Oh," Jordan replied with a frown at the little green pouch with a screw top.

"What are these?" Dakota asked as she held up a plastic pack with red discs inside.

"Boiled sweets," Sinead said.

"Ooh! Instant hot chocolate!" Charlotte exclaimed happily, then her smile faded. "Sweet cherry beverage powder."

"Salted peanuts, beef jerky, pear fruit bar, cool – a raspberry sports drink!" Jordan commented.

"A packet of tissues," Charlotte said next.

"So you can wipe yourself after you've had a wee," Sinead chuckled.

Charlotte scowled as her cheeks went very pink and Jordan laughed.

..._...

"Rice pudding – I hate rice pudding!"

"Rice pudding is cool!" Scarlett responded to Diana's scowling face.

"I hate the skin," Diana persisted.

"Apple and cinnamon muesli with milk," Amber read out. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"I got a pack of tomato pasta salad," Diana said loudly.

"That sounds tasty," Scarlett commented. "A tiny little bottle of Tabasco sauce – cute! Raspberry jam? A cereal bar – cranberry."

"Last item, I think," Diana said. "Bolognese and pasta shells."

"I got a piece of paper," Amber stated. "Questionnaire on one side and a list of items in the box on the other. It shows what's in the plastic bag; the brew kit: beverage whitener, instant coffee, teabags, water purification tablets, sugar, matches, dental chewing gum, wet wipes, and a spoon."

"Check!" Diana countered as she fished through her plastic bag of sachets.

"I thought that ration packs were supposed to be disgusting," Jordan pointed out."

"They used to be bad," Captain Perrin chuckled. "The American MREs really sucked – they called them 'Meals Rejected by the Enemy' amongst other creative alternative meanings. I think they've improved a bit, though."

"Okay – now you've seen what you have, it is time to brew up!" Sinead directed.

..._...

"Unpack the Trangia – release the straps."

Scarlett followed the instructions as Captain McFadden called them out. She had eight items arranged before her and she began to assemble the field stove. She inverted the base section of the wind shield which had numerous holes around the circumference and on the flattened bottom with a larger hole in the centre, placing it on a flat section of ground. She placed the upper windshield off to one side as directed. Next, she picked up a small brown metal container – the burner. She took off the top and peered inside – it was empty. As she looked around, she could see her friends doing the same. Friends? Did she really see them as her friends? She knew what three of them were – or at least she had guessed what they were. They all treated her well – maybe they did not know who and what she was . . . or what she had done.

Under instruction, she placed the item on the ground and she opened the top of a metallic bottle – the contents stank! She carefully poured a small amount of liquid into the burner, stopping just below the mouth as directed, before replacing the lid. She placed the burner into the larger hole in the centre of the lower wind shield before installing the upper section of the wind shield.

"Take a match," Captain McFadden directed. "Light it, then remove the lid and hold it to the fumes. You will not see a flame, but you can _carefully_ , feel the heat with your hand."

Scarlett did exactly that, and she could feel the heat on the palm of he left hand. She poured some of the water out of the other bottle into the deeper pan and with the metal grip, she placed it gently into the top of the wind shield. Within two minutes, the water was hissing happily as it heated up. The additional warmth provided by the stove was also very welcome. Scarlett noticed the others warming both hands over the water, but she just waved her left hand lazily over the rising heat.

"You can use the lid to speed up the boiling if you so wish. While the water is boiling, find your mug and a teabag."

Scarlett did so, opening up a Typhoo teabag packet and dumping the contents into the plastic mug. The water began bubbling fairly soon afterward and very carefully, she used the metal grip to lift up the metal pan and pour the hot water onto the teabag in the cup. She grinned as she recognised the familiar smell of tea. She dug around for some sugar and emptied a sachet into the tea, followed by another sachet, that one of whitener. As she finished, she accidentally knocked her Trangia, but she caught it before it fell over, not noticing the hot water which had sloshed over her right hand.

Scarlett may not have noticed, but Charlotte did.

..._...

Charlotte looked on, appalled, as the hot water splashed across the back of Scarlett's hand.

"Scarlett!"

"What?" Scarlett asked, unsure why Charlotte had just called out her name.

"Your hand – you burnt it!"

"I did?"

"I saw the boiling water spill over your right hand!"

"Ah, Charlotte . . . don't worry," Diana offered.

"Whad'ya mean?" Charlotte asked, confused.

Scarlett rolled her eyes as she raised her right hand and she pulled off the 'glove'.

"Shades of Terminator!" Dakota commented in awe.

"You guys have really been in the wars!" Amber exclaimed.

"Infected wound," Jordan admitted.

"Car crash," Diana conceded.

"Vigilante justice," Scarlett said as she articulated the carbon-fibre fingers of her right hand.

..._...

The youngsters and the adults sat down to enjoy some tea.

The captains stole some hot water and teabags from the youngsters, very pleased with their progress. They had started as six youngsters with only violence in common, but they were happily chatting together, even Amber who had seen bored by everything. Eventually, Charlotte stood up.

"I need the loo," she stated.

"Little girl's room: second round bale on the right," Sinead directed, pointing down the paddock.

"What!"

"Do I need to spell it out, Charlotte?" Sinead deadpanned. "You walk down the paddock and go behind the round bale . . . you drop your trousers and knickers . . . squat down . . . then you pee."

Charlotte scowled, and she began to stride off down the paddock.

"Aren't you forgetting something," Sinead persisted.

"No," Charlotte replied, turning around.

"Tissues to wipe your fanny after the event?"

Charlotte's eyes bulged out as Jordan exploded into laughter and the other girls giggled. She felt her cheeks burning as she swiped up the packet of tissues and she bolted off down the paddock, laughter ringing in her ears.

..._...

"Captain McFadden?"

"Hello, Scarlett."

"You were there, that day. That's where you got hurt, hunting my Dad."

It was more statement than question.

"Yes, I was there. I'm sorry about what you had to suffer, Scarlett. You've had a difficult time, but I think you deserved it . . . to a point. Hopefully, you will be a better person for it."

"I hope so. I've lost everything – even my hand."

"You're a strong girl, Scarlett. Anything, you need, you let me know, okay. I don't blame people for their pasts, but I expect them to pay for them and do something about it for their future. You've paid for what you've done, so you can now lay out your future in a way that reflects on what you have learnt."

"Thanks – I'll put some thought into that."

"See that you do, Scarlett Radford."

..._...

Amber studied all those around her.

She knew that Scarlett was no _Predator_. The girl had not said much during their short time living together, but she was also very troubled. The missing hand was also something unexpected. Nobody had offered any explanation for who Scarlett Radford was and how she had lost her right hand, and Amber had not pressed. Then, just that morning, she and Scarlett had been dropped off to spend the day with four other kids – one was a nutcase with no legs, while the other three were reminiscent of that boy whom she had been with when she had been rescued. They were _Predators_ , she was certain. Diana intrigued her, enormously. The girl was an enigma – how did she fit in with the _Predators_? Were any of the kids around her part of _Vengeance_?

Amber was keeping her eyes and ears very much open.

..._...

"Okay, one last exercise before we head back up to the house," Captain Perrin said as everybody finished their tea and some chocolate. "Now, this is a puzzle which has been around for a very long time, only it was then used on a Die Hard film. You guys are going to work out the very same puzzle."

The kids were led across the paddock to where there was a tap attached to a fence post, a solid blue plastic water pipe vanished down the post and into the ground. There were three items on a wooden table.

"We have a set of weighing scales – that's for if you succeed," Captain McFadden explained. "Then we have two empty plastic water containers – a five gallon and a 3 gallon."

"I've seen this!" Jordan exclaimed. "They have to defuse a bomb – it was a puzzle."

"Well done, Jordan," Captain McFadden chuckled. "You need to get exactly four gallons into the five-gallon container. Once done, we shall weigh the container and see if you are right. Good luck."

The six kids scrambled for the containers . . . and the tap.

..._...

"So, you've seen this movie?" Dakota asked Jordan.

"Yes."

"So, how do we do this, then?"

"I don't remember," Jordan replied.

"Crap!"

"Okay," Diana mused. "How are we going to do this – estimation?"

"That won't be accurate enough," Amber reasoned.

"Let's fill these up," Dakota suggested to Scarlett.

Scarlett blamed Dakota, who blamed Scarlett. Either way, one of the containers had got blasted out of Dakota's hands, soaking the girl's trousers. The dropped container had splashed its limited contents all over Scarlett, and both girls were giggling as they tried to turn off the tap which was spewing ice-cold water everywhere. Before they could regain control of the stream, the two dogs decided to get in on the act, their jaws snapping at the water as they tried to drink from it. They were both quickly very wet and they soon ran off to shake themselves over the other kids who all screamed (Jordan yelled).

Once the dogs had scattered to chase each other around the paddock, the kids went back to the puzzle in hand.

..._...

Sinead watched intently as the six youngsters proceeded to get themselves cold and wet while they tried out various methods to reach their goal.

It was amusing, to be honest, especially as they were all laughing, despite some of them not knowing the others before that morning. They had all worked as a team in the first task, completing it with distinction. The current task was stretching their brains to breaking point, she figured. She knew that all six were highly intelligent, especially the _Predators_ , but even then, they were struggling. Each was contributing their own attempt at a solution, but despite plenty of water splashing everywhere, they were no nearer a solution. Then Charlotte had an idea.

"Fill the big container to the top," she directed, and Jordan did so. "Okay: fill the small container from the big container. That leaves two gallons in the big container, right?"

"I think I see where you're going," Amber commented, as she took over. "Jordan, empty that small container completely onto the ground.

Jordan did so.

"Now," Charlotte continued. "Pour the two gallons from the big container into the small container . . . good. Now go fill the big container up again, please."

Jordan did so, getting wetter in the process.

"We have two gallons in the small container and five in the big container," Charlotte summed up. "If we carefully fill the small container from the big container. . ."

"We'll have three gallons in the small container and _FOUR_ gallons in the big container!" Dakota squealed in delight. "Sorry."

Jordan very carefully followed instructions before he lowered the large container onto the weighing scales. Sinead stepped forward to check the readout.

"Brilliant!" she announced, producing smiles all around.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

Captain Perrin was relaxing in the living room while Charlotte was chatting with Scarlett, Amber, Jordan, and Diana – Sinead and Dakota had already headed home.

Sasha and Nika both perked up at the sounds of vehicles pulling up outside. Both then scrambled to their eight paws and vanished in search of the new arrivals. First in the door were Natasha and Cameron.

"You two have fun?" they asked Scarlett and Amber.

"It was actually good fun," Amber admitted with some reluctance. "Thanks, Captain Perrin."

"No problem, young lady."

"Thank you, sir," Scarlett added.

"Always welcome."

"Thanks for keeping an eye on them," Natasha said with a smile.

"It was a good day," Richard Perrin chuckled as he spied a naval uniform at the door.

"Daddy!" Sarah exploded as Cameron, Natasha, Scarlett, and Amber left. "I got promoted!"

"Lieutenant, eh!" Captain Perrin chuckled, always pleased when his daughter was in her uniform. "Told you it would come – and you deserve it, Sarah."

"Thank you!" Sarah replied, so happy at her promotion and her father's kind words. "Look!"

Sarah thrust a small box at her father. He opened it to see the Queen's Gallantry Medal and he felt further pride for his eldest daughter. He was about to congratulate her when an identical box was thrust under his nose by his youngest daughter. He opened the box to find an identical medal. His pride simply grew as he pulled both of his daughters down into a hug.

"I'm very proud of the both of you – well done!"

"Didn't they do well?" Alexandra Perrin grinned as she entered the room.

She was very happy that her husband was able to be home to share in his daughter's triumphs. As he released his daughters, another naval officer entered the room. Lieutenant-Commander Keira Sharp grinned happily.

"Keira gained her half stripe, Daddy," Sarah blurted out.

"Well done, Commander," Captain Perrin said as he stood up. "You deserve it – the DFC, too. How's Harper?"

"She's fine!" Harper said as she limped into the room, a crutch in her right hand. "Here's Keira's DFC – I have a QGM."

"I know – congratulations, all of you," Richard Perrin announced as the other kids flooded into the room.

Kaitlin and Naomi were beaming happily.

* * *

 ** _East Mayfield_**

It was with great relief that they finally returned home.

Keira wanted out of her uniform and Harper needed to rest – she had avoided using a crutch at Balmoral, but she was now struggling. Diana was concerned, so she had taken custody of Harper and helped her out of the dress and into some pyjamas before finding Harper's numerous tablets for pain and the host of other ailments which afflicted her. After a brief supper, they all retired to the living room. Diana actually fell asleep, as did Keira, leaving Harper alone. Harper took the private time to examine her sister's medal.

The face of the medal featured aeroplane propellers superimposed on the vertical arms of the cross and wings on the horizontal arms. The ribbon was white with purple broad diagonal stripes. The reverse featured the Royal Cypher in the centre and the year of issue, 2016, was engraved on the lower arm. On the reverse of the left arm, the medal was engraved: 'Lt K Sharp'.

Harper pulled out her own medal. She stared at it and her sister's medal with tears streaming down her face. It had all come so close to not happening. Keira would have still gained her medal, but she would not have been there to see her sister invested by The Queen and promoted by the Prime Minister. Mary had advised Harper that she would have still received a medal if she had not been rescued – it would have been posthumous, and Keira would have received it on her behalf.

"You okay?"

Harper looked up to see Diana looking down at her. Harper grinned as she put the medals away.

"Yeah – it's just been a busy day," she replied as she wiped her eyes.

"Time for bed, you two," Keira said as she stood up tiredly and stretched.

It took a few minutes for Diana to help Harper up the stairs to bed. Harper still hated being the invalid – which was made even more weird by the fact that she was being helped around by a girl with no legs. Harper was glad to be lying down and her limbs could rest.

Keira knelt down beside Harper's bed.

The QGM resided in its box, the lid open beside the bed.

"Well done, today," Keira said as she gently moved Harper's hair away from her face. "I am very proud of you."

"I'm proud of you, too. I know that the promotion means a lot to you."

"It's amazing to finally reach that rank – a lot has happened since I was a snotty like Sarah. What you went through . . . it all went through my mind again and it was a struggle to keep it together."

"I survived, and you survived – that's all what matters. We also now have a wacky nutcase living with us, too."

"I heard that!"

"One day that habit of yours will get you into serious trouble, Diana!" Harper growled.

"Sorry . . . is that your medal?"

"No – it's a toy from a cereal box!"

"So sarcastic!" Diana groaned as she studied the medal. "You deserve it, Harper."

"Shame I can't tell anybody about it," Harper sighed pointedly.

"I understand," Diana replied, getting the message. "Goodnight, guys."

"Night, Diana," Harper called out.

Keira switched out the light and then switched out Diana's light.

"Goodnight, Diana," Keira said. "Goodnight, Harper. Sleep tight, both of you."


	57. Dick

**Author's Note:** _This chapter follows on from events in_ **Chapter 363: A Difficult Weekend** _of my other story:_ **Forsaken** _._

* * *

 ** _Monday, December 12th, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Kaitlin was excited – there were three new _Predators_ in country.

One of them was to be staying with them – Cassie had not gone into any detail and Kaitlin was certain that Cassie was holding something back. She ran into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom where she quickly changed out of her school uniform – leaving it scattered all over the floor as usual – before pulling on jeans, a blouse, and a pair of pink trainers. Then, as she made for the stairs, she heard running water coming from the spare bedroom beside Charlotte's bedroom.

Her curiosity overcame her – not surprisingly – and she followed the sounds.

..._...

The twelve-year-old _Predator_ was enjoying his shower.

He had not had a private shower in quite a while – not that showering with others had ever really bothered him; it just felt different, but in a good way. It also felt like freedom and not some institution where massed showering was the rule. The shower was good; powerful and hot. Most of his bruises had faded during his incarceration, including a few cuts and gouges. Even his hair was growing back and there was actually something to wash for the first time since he was eight.

"You have a dick."

Jake turned to look at the voice and he found a young girl staring at him.

"You have a dick," she repeated.

"I hope so; I'm a boy," Jake grinned.

"You have a dick."

"Do you have any other words of wisdom?"

"You have a dick."

"Kaitlin, he's a boy," came another voice which Jake recognised, and another girl appeared to look him up and down. "Boys have dicks – actually, boys _are_ dicks, but that's an _entirely_ different matter!"

"He has a dick," the younger girl persisted.

"Can I finish my shower in peace, please, without her talking about my dick all the time?" Jake asked Charlotte.

"Leave her to me, Jake."

Kaitlin was seized by the torso and yanked out of the bathroom, allowing Jake to finish off his shower in private.

..._...

"He has a dick," Kaitlin growled as she was released out on the landing.

"You never seen a boy naked, Kaitlin?" Charlotte asked in disbelief.

"Dozens of them," Kaitlin responded. "But he has a dick. . ."

"You got a problem with boys, Kaitlin?" Cassie asked as she appeared on the landing.

"No – but he has a dick and that's not allowed in this house."

"Wow!" Naomi announced as she came out of the bedroom which she shared with Kaitlin. "I had no idea that you were so sexist."

"You never complained about Craig being here," Cassie reasoned. "I assume he has a dick."

"Oh, he has a dick," Naomi chuckled. "Olivia can't get enough of Craig's dick!"

Kaitlin scowled.

"I think that Jake's a breath of fresh air," Alexandra threw into the conversation. "Having boys around is good; believe me, I've had enough of little girls!"

"Hey!" Cassie growled.

"You're no longer a little girl, Cassandra."

"Cassandra?" Charlotte echoed.

"Cassie's real name," Naomi whispered before elaborating further. "Cassie hates it."

"Oh!" Charlotte replied.

..._...

The evening meal was fun.

"You settled in, Jake?" Richard Perrin asked.

"Yes, thank you, sir."

"You've met the two girls, and I believe you already know Charlotte."

"Yes, sir – we were taken at about the same time and were both part of the Fourth Intake."

Richard had taken an instant liking to the boy. He was very much like Kaitlin, but older – and a boy. He had had a good laugh at Kaitlin's expense over the 'dick' incident – she was still brooding over it and viciously stabbing at her steak. They did not usually have steak on a Monday night, but they did to welcome Jake to Blairhoyle.

"It's very nice to have you here, Jake," Alexandra said as she grinned at Kaitlin.

* * *

 ** _Lasswade Road, Edinburgh_**

Fourteen-year-old Ewan Campbell was also settling in with _his_ new family.

Trevor and Jeremy had been welcoming to the boy and Ewan was very happy with his new home. Trevor had explained that it was just a trial to allow time to see how Ewan fitted in with them. Ewan agreed, knowing that it would not be easy for him, nor his foster family. However, he was very pleased to not be in an obvious prison facility. The safehouse in Chicago had been appealing, but he was back in Scotland for the first time in many years and it just felt right. He even had his own room – front of the house, next door to Jeremy's room.

All in all, the boy was very happy with his rising fortunes.

* * *

 ** _Beacon Croft, Stirling_**

It was much the same for sixteen-year-old Kate Fincham.

"Welcome, Catherine," Amy Montgomery said as Kate and David walked in the front door.

"I prefer: Kate."

"Kate it is," Amy replied with a friendly smile. "This is our son, Craig."

"Hello, Kate – welcome."

"This is Jordan – he's been living with us for the past month," Amy went on.

"May I?" Kate asked.

Craig and Jordan both tipped their heads forward and Kate swiftly found what she was looking for.

"Both of you, huh?"

"Best years of my life," Jordan smirked.

"Yes – been there, got the sodding tattoo," Craig grinned.

"Craig!" David warned.

"Sorry, Dad."

Kate chuckled.

"Kate," Amy said. "Your room is at the front – you even have the main bathroom to yourself."

"You're lucky," Craig grinned. "You're miles away from Dad's snoring!"

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Charlotte had not commented on them, but eventually, her curiosity had got the better of her.

"What are those?" she asked, pointing to a row of glass jars, all stuffed with coins and notes which sat on a shelf in the kitchen.

Cassie laughed.

"You've found the swear jars belonging to Naomi and Kaitlin," she explained.

"Why so many?"

"The first two are Naomi's – the other seven belong to Kaitlin."

"Seven!" Charlotte exclaimed. "Fu. . . oops!"

"Seems to be a _Predator_ thing," Cassie chuckled as she reached into a cupboard and a tenth jar joined the row.

It was labelled: **CHARLOTTE**.

Charlotte scowled.

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Wednesday, December 14th_**

The sound was sickening as the boy's fist smacked into his face.

The pain was intense, but he refused to raise a fist to stop the fight. He did, however, raise his hands to protect his face and body as the fists rained down. Nobody moved to help him – they all just cheered, enjoying the fight. The audience was enjoying the smell of blood in the air. He fell down as one particularly hard punch knocked him off balance and he felt more pain as he hit the ground. The boy did not stop, but he continued to punch, and he also used his feet to add to the pain. All he had done was stand up for somebody who could not stand up for themselves and he had been set upon. The boy attacking him was an animal – a wild animal. Then, out of nowhere, the cheering and the chanting ceased. The beating stopped, and he allowed himself to lie back on the floor.

Finally, he gave in and he let his tears fall.

..._...

 ** _Beaconhurst School_**

Cassie cringed as she saw Jake coming out of school with the three girls.

His left eye was bruised and battered – as was most of his face. Cassie looked at the three girls for an answer, but they simply shrugged. A miserable-looking Jake handed Cassie an envelope which Cassie recognised as one which matched the two dozen or so letters that she already had in a drawer at home concerning Kaitlin and Naomi – but mostly Kaitlin.

"You've got a letter from the Head, Jake? It's only your second day at school . . . even Kaitlin waited until her _third_ day!"

"That was a misunderstanding," Kaitlin pointed out as Naomi laughed.

"Well?" Cassie prompted the twelve-year-old boy.

"I was protecting another boy. I told the bully to leave him alone, but the bully turned on me. It was successful, I suppose – I saved the boy who was being bullied," Jake said slowly.

"What did you do to the other boy?" Cassie demanded, dreading the answer.

"I never touched him."

"You took the beating?" Charlotte exclaimed.

Jake simply nodded.

Cassie vanished inside the school for almost twenty minutes before she came back out and she motioned the kids into the car. She climbed in and the wheels span as she shot out of the school carpark. Naomi and Kaitlin exclaimed glances as they tightened their seatbelts: Cassie was pissed off to the point of killing.

The ride home was spirited and very short.

..._...

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Come on, Jake – upstairs with you," Cassie directed.

"What's going on?" Alexandra asked from the kitchen – sensing trouble.

"Jake got beaten up at school," Naomi explained.

Upstairs, Jake sat down on his bed while Cassie checked out his wounds. They were superficial, and the bruising would heal over time.

"Are you hurt anywhere else, Jake?"

Jake pulled off his tie and his shirt to reveal lots of bruising on his chest and some lighter marks on his stomach. Cassie's expression hardened at the sight of so many bruises but then softened again.

"I'm very proud of you, Jake," Cassie began. "That must have taken a lot of self-control not to fight back. I know what you are, and I know what you are capable of. I would have expected you to really hurt the other boy. Why didn't you retaliate? You could have ended the fight in a second."

"I'm trying to be better than what I was. I'm ashamed of what I was. I'm ashamed of what I am. I didn't want to let Hit Girl down – nor you. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Causing you trouble."

"Oh, Jake."

The boy crumpled into tears – a lot of tears.

"I don't want to fight; I've been doing that for so long. I just want to have a normal life. I want to be wanted. I want somebody to love me."

The tears had turned into sobbing. The boy was hurting both inside and out. Cassie just hugged the boy until he fell asleep. Cassie pulled off Jake's shoes and socks before covering him up with his duvet.

Jake had been so happy about going to school – 'eager' barely covered it. He had been given the choice of starting school directly or leaving it for a day or two – he had jumped at the chance. Alexandra had already bought his school uniform based on sizes from Mindy, so he had quickly dressed, and Cassie then made the boy even happier by removing his ankle tracker – Mindy had told Cassie that Jake appeared to be trustworthy. In fact, all three of the newcomers had lost their trackers – on pain of regaining them if they caused trouble. He had come bouncing out of the school after Tuesday's lessons – literally bouncing – saying that he had enjoyed everything. Cassie could understand the bully turning on the boy. Jake was short for his age, only about four feet eight inches as opposed to the five feet in height of his peers. Charlotte was the complete opposite – she was the same age as Jake; actually, a month younger – and almost four inches taller than him.

Cassie headed back downstairs where she found the other kids enjoying their tea.

..._...

Charlotte was _not_ happy.

She glowered at her food as she thought of what had happened to her friend. They had always been there for one another. From the very moment that they had first met. They had not even known each other's names for the first week. He had just grinned at her each time they had passed each other in a corridor or when their eyes had met across the crowded dining room. After a day or two, she had started grinning back. They were just two eight-year-olds, scared to death by their new regime. Then, during their first weekend, they had met one another properly: Jake and Charlotte. They had become friends. Whenever the other was feeling blue, or they needed a shoulder to cry on, they would meet up at the weekend during their limited free time. They would spar together, improving their skills. Charlotte had struggled with the fighting part as she had been a very girly girl and she had despised 'boy' things – she had always seen fighting as a 'boy' thing. However, she had quickly learnt that if you could not fight then _Urban Predator_ did not want you. If they did not want you then you died with a catastrophic head injury, usually brought on by a single bullet to the forehead.

Without Jake, Charlotte could never have survived to gain her coveted tattoo, let alone progressed through her training. The very same was valid for Jake: without Charlotte, he would never have survived his training. They had both stuck together, through thick and thin, never letting their friendship waver. They had grown up, reaching their ninth-year together and celebrating in secret – _Urban Predator_ was not all that big on celebrations. After a little 'over-celebration', they had spent the three days following their tenth birthdays in the cage. As for their eleventh birthday – both tried to forget that fateful day. Then they had turned twelve and not long after, _Urban Predator_ had begun to fall apart. They had both been in Colorado when they had been ordered out with a dozen others and into vehicles. They had made their escape, somewhere outside Kansas City before heading north for Des Moines. There, they had survived for three months before they had met Willow – she had enticed them with an unbelievable offer of becoming rich. FEAR had been true to her word as far as money was concerned. Both of them were very rich, but Charlotte and Jake had agreed to hide their cash and never spend a single dollar of it – it was blood money, they had both decided.

After dinner, Charlotte checked in on Jake – the boy was still sleeping soundly, so she headed for bed.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Thursday, December 15th_**

 ** _Beaconhurst School_**

Charlotte looked a tad miserable as she handed Cassie an envelope.

"You trying to compete now?"

Charlotte never said a word as Cassie ripped open the envelope. Naomi watched Cassie's expression and she saw Cassie's face darken considerably as she read the letter from top to bottom. By the time Cassie had finished reading the letter, Naomi and Kaitlin had vanished into the car with Jake, leaving the unfortunate Charlotte to get nuked alone.

"What have you done?"

The question was purely rhetorical, and Charlotte decided it was best not to respond.

"Get in the car, young lady – MOVE IT!"

As with the day before, the ride home was similarly spirited and even shorter.

..._...

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

"Get upstairs and stay in your room."

Charlotte went without saying a word. She knew that she was in _big_ trouble, but she reasoned that she had done the right thing. It was almost an hour before Cassie appeared in Charlotte's bedroom. Cassie was still seething as she leaned against the wall, staring down at Charlotte.

"How dare you attack that boy!"

"He had it coming," Charlotte said.

"I did not say you could talk. For the moment, nobody is pressing charges against you."

"Me! What about that bastard who battered Jake! The fucking school all but let that bloody bully off!"

"You finished?" Cassie asked calmly.

Charlotte was wise enough to take the hint.

"Yes – I'm sorry."

"Sorry is not going to cut it, young lady. I was willing to give you guys some leeway, considering who and what you are, but this was going too damn far, Charlotte. You may go downstairs for your tea, then you will come back up here to do your homework, then bed."

"Cassie?"

"Yes, Charlotte."

"I'm really sorry."

"Were you hurt?"

"No – I can fight without hurting myself."

"I spoke with Abigail – she tells me that you and Jake are close."

"Yes, we are.

"You let me down, Charlotte, and even worse, you let yourself down. Think about that. Go get your tea."

..._...

After her tea which she had eaten alone at the kitchen table, Charlotte had returned to her bedroom to complete her homework.

Once her homework was complete, she changed into her pyjamas before slipping under the duvet. That was when her mobile rang.

"Hello?"

 _"Hi, Charlie."_

"Abigail!"

 _"Got yourself into a bit of shit, huh?"_

"Just a bit."

 _"It isn't easy adjusting to a new life, Charlie. I struggled, but I had friends. Go talk to Naomi or Harper – they can be trusted, I promise you."_

"What will they do to me? Will they send me back?

 _"Anything is on the table, right now, Charlie. You messed up big."_

"I love it here. I just didn't think. I don't want to leave."

 _"Just take it a day at a time, Charlie._

"It's good just hearing your voice, Abigail."

 _"I'm here if you need me, too. My number's in your phone. Night or day, you call me, understand?"_

"Yes, I understand . . . and thanks for being there for me."

 _"You hang in there and you'll get through it."_

"I'll keep positive."

 _"Night, Charlie."_

"Night, Abigail."

Charlotte just stared at the phone as she placed it down on the bed. She felt miserable. Cassie's words had stung and the thought of being sent back to Chicago scared the hell out of her. She knew that actions had consequences, so she knew that punishment would follow. She had had to avenge Jake, but she had gone off half-cocked without thinking things through at all.

She closed her eyes and hoped that she would stay brave and see things through.

* * *

 ** _The following afternoon  
Friday, December 16th_**

 ** _Beaconhurst School_**

"Charlotte – you're not coming home with us," Cassie said. "You're going home with Sinead and Dakota."

"Why?" Charlotte asked, her face a mask of worry.

"Sinead is going to supervise your punishment – Dakota's too. I'll see you after school on Monday. Sinead has a bag with your things. I expect you to follow instructions as they are given by Sinead. I won't tell you to have fun because there won't be much of that for you. Just hang in there and you'll get through it. Okay?"

Cassie smiled her support and she gave the girl a hug.

"Actions have consequences – I know," Charlotte grinned as she hugged Cassie back.

After Cassie, Naomi, Kaitlin, and Jake had gone, Charlotte turned to Dakota.

"What are you in trouble for?"

Dakota looked uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"Tell her," Sinead directed.

Dakota's shoulders slumped.

"I'm a gobby bitch with a big mouth," Dakota responded.

"This I must hear," Charlotte replied uneasily.

..._...

 ** _Vengeance Training Facility: Wolf_**

"I'm scared."

"Don't be stupid, Mary – it's not like they're going to strip you naked and strap you," Electra pointed out.

"You certain about that?" Mary asked, unconvinced.

"They _will_ be hard on you and they _will_ humiliate you, I suppose, but they will _not_ hurt you – not badly. They are your friends, Mary, but they need to get the message across to you in a way that you will remember."

"I know; I made an enormous blunder, but I meant good by it."

"That isn't the point," Electra clarified. "We are not going to go soft on you, but neither are we going to give you the full Olivia treatment."

Mary shuddered at that.

..._...

Mary was still very worried as she descended into the training centre with Electra.

Unsurprisingly, she found Harper waiting for her. Electra, though, was very surprised to see Harper there wearing a _Vengeance_ T-shirt, shorts, and a pair of white trainers. Electra also noticed that Harper was a fraction of what she used to be. The nine-year-old had lost a lot of weight during her incarceration, torture, and subsequent hospitalisation. Harper's legs still showed evidence of scarring and they were very thin. The same applied to her arms – her left arm was strapped up in a sling across her chest. Harper also hobbled a bit as she walked and Electra had spied a crutch leaning against the wall.

"Strip!" Harper ordered and she pointed to a pile of clothing.

Mary saw the same clothing that Harper wore, and she grabbed up the pile and went to change.

..._...

"You look good," Electra said.

"Don't lie, Electra – I look like crap," Harper responded.

"Just trying to make you feel better. It is good to see you getting involved again."

"I never thought that I would ever see this place again. I looked around it earlier on – only I couldn't go into the interrogation rooms."

"Was that where they . . . you know?"

"That's where they tortured me, yes."

Electra worried about her friend. Harper was struggling on an emotional level and she had everything locked away as usual. Harper never liked talking about herself – maybe she needed too.

"You're going to town on Mary, aren't you?"

"Yes – I talked with Keira, Ginny, and Mindy. Of anybody here, I have the most experience of what happens when things go badly wrong. I hated being cruel to the newbies when _Vengeance_ went dark. I'm going to hate doing this – but it has to be done."

Electra nodded her understanding and she felt sorry for Mary, but only to a point.

"Will you be alone?"

"No – Olivia will ensure I don't go too far. You go enjoy the evening. Mary will probably be needing you by the time you get back," Harper replied ominously.

..._...

When Mary returned, she found Electra had gone, as had everybody else as the place was silent as a tomb.

Just Harper remained, although Olivia appeared a minute later looking decidedly unhappy.

"Where is everyone?" Mary asked timidly.

"They've gone out into Glasgow," Harper replied.

"I wish I was going with them."

"Not fucking likely!" Harper growled. "You can't be bloody trusted."

Mary flinched at the barbed comments – they had stung. For a moment, she thought that Harper was about to apologise, but no.

"You think you're so fucking special that you can do anything you like, Your Royal Highness?" Harper hissed.

"Don't call me that – not here," Mary responded.

"I'll call you what the fuck I want!" Harper snapped back. "You put lives at risk, Princess! You put my friends lives at risk, Princess! You went to help Fury – big fucking deal! You were told to stay in the fucking truck, right?"

"Yes."

"What were you told?"

"To stay in the vehicle."

"Well – WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE THE FUCKING TRUCK?" Harper bellowed.

"I . . ."

"Because you think you're better than every other fucker, despite their fucking experience!"

"No!"

"Bullshit, Princess!"

Mary was sobbing. It was the same as when she had gone out as Belle, in London – she had not been thinking. She had operated as if she were the only one there. Worse, she had been in a foreign city, three-thousand miles from home.

"I didn't think," she muttered.

"Is that the fucking best a fucking Princess has to come up with?"

"It's the truth!" Mary almost screamed.

"Fucking hell!" Harper growled as she stepped back. "Let's work through a scenario, shall we?"

"What are you two . . . what are you . . . going to do to me?" Mary asked a little hesitantly as she wiped her eyes.

"Olivia is here to ensure that I don't go too far – nothing more," Harper replied in a tone that scared Mary. "But I am going to knock into you some obviously-needed sense."

Mary looked over at Olivia, but her friend refused to match her gaze.

"Suppose you were taken – they would have bundled you into a van, probably taken you to some shithole of a warehouse. You would have been roughed up a bit, then they would have unmasked you. At first, they would have just seen a young girl – nobody special. They'd have slapped you around a bit . . ."

Harper slapped Mary with an open palm, across her left cheek. Mary yelled out in pain, jumping back, away from Harper. Harper simply moved closer.

". . . Then I'm sure somebody might have decided to see more of you – they'd have stripped the body armour off of you and left you standing naked . . ."

Without warning, Mary found Olivia yanking off her T-shirt, shorts, and underwear, leaving her standing completely naked on the mat in the training area. Mary was shaking with fear.

". . . There would probably have been at least one sick bastard who got turned on by a naked thirteen-year-old girl. They would have had a good look – maybe even a feel . . ."

Mary was shocked when Harper grabbed a handful of Mary's pubic hair with her right hand and then shoved Mary back against a wall. Mary screamed out in pain and she tried to pull away, but to no avail.

". . . Maybe they consider raping you. I was lucky, I had nothing to turn anybody on and those who would have been turned on by a ten-year-old weren't around. Then, somebody might have suddenly recognised a Royal Princess and your life would have just taken a nasty turn . . ."

Mary nodded at Olivia as she released Mary. Olivia grabbed the naked girl by the arm and she marched her up the stairs and before Mary knew it, she was being pushed outside into the freezing cold of the night. She felt the cold mud beneath her bare feet, oozing between her toes. She felt the terror rising inside her as the 'scenario' began to feel so real and her mind began to conjure up appalling events.

". . . Now, one of two things might happen. They might feel that you are way too much trouble for them – so they shoot you." Mary found herself forced to her knees and something cold shoved into her back. "BANG! You're dead!"

Mary was kicked in the back and she fell forward onto her face before she rolled into a puddle of freezing water and mud. She screamed out at the cold and the abuse.

"As for the second thing – they hold you for ransom. I would not expect HMG to respond too favourably, to be honest. A ransom may not be forthcoming – best case? You die, and your body is never recovered. Worst case? You die, and your dead body is paraded for the whole world to see and your family is humiliated worldwide."

Harper nodded to Olivia who lifted the sobbing Mary out of the puddle and wrapped a blanket around her before guiding her back inside.

..._...

Mary was shaking uncontrollably – both from the cold and from the fear of what she had just experienced.

She found herself passing back into the warmth of the bunker and then she felt warmer still as she was pushed under the hot water of a shower. She felt somebody using a sponge to clean her face and her upper body.

"I'm sorry, Mary, I really am," Harper said from a few feet away. "I was told to be harsh – I hated it, but you had to learn."

"I . . . I'm okay. Nobody ever died of humiliation, huh?"

Olivia felt really bad for her friend as she helped her to clean up. She had been horrified by Harper's plan, but she had also understood why it had had to be done. Olivia also knew why Harper had selected her to assist – Mary trusted Olivia and Olivia knew exactly why it had to be done. Once Mary had cleaned herself up, she had dressed, and she had been taken to the dining room for some hot sweet tea.

"I deserved that," Mary commented. "Don't feel bad, Harper – I needed to experience that. You made it seem so real, even though I knew it wasn't and I knew that I was safe."

"I never want anybody to experience what I did. The pain was like nothing I'd ever experienced. You're important, Mary, even more than the rest of us. I had to make Olivia suffer when she thought I was pushing her too hard. She never wanted any of it, but like you, she found herself in a situation she couldn't escape from. You were born into it which is different, but you are governed by different rules," Harper lectured.

"Thank you, Harper. I'm really sorry for fucking up," Mary responded.

"I know you are," Harper grinned. "Now, let's go see what the other guys are up to."

..._...

Olivia led the way down to Sub-Level Two.

After all the exertion of earlier, Harper was a little sore and she moved slowly. Finally, they reached a ginormous concrete edifice. Olivia swiped a card in a lot and she placed her hand on a pulsing orange translucent panel. The panel flashed green and a steel door slid open. Inside, the room was cool, and it smelt of ozone. On the far wall, three giant eighty-inch LED screens covered the wall in a line horizontally. Before them, a steel control desk was set back, six feet from the wall. On the control desk were a row of six twenty-four-inch touch screens with a keyboard and mouse.

"Welcome to the Vengeance Auxiliary Command Centre!" Jasper announced. "Or VACC for short."

"You've been here all the time?" Mary asked worriedly.

"I knew what was going on, so I stayed in here . . . and the cameras were all disabled," Jasper responded. "Your dignity is safe, Princess."

"Thanks."

"Now, let me show you around."


	58. Friday Night

**_Friday, December 16th, 2016_**

 ** _Anniesland, Glasgow_**

The teams had gathered, and departed, in record time.

Glide was over the moon at being allowed to ride behind Nemesis on her KTM 1290 Super Duke GT while Prowl rode with Crimson on her Triumph Speed 94. Rigour rode with Scorpion in _SABRE_ leaving Stripe astride his brand new 2016 Honda VRF1200X Crosstourer motorcycle. The motorcycle was jet-black with a blood-red stripe running down each side of the machine from the headlights towards the rear. Drift rode his own machine, the Triumph Tiger Sport racing along at a little over seventy miles-per-hour, leading the _Vengeance_ posse into Scotland's largest city.

The City of Glasgow had recently gained a dubious accolade – it was in the top ten of a select group of European cities. Despite Glasgow's murder rate having more than halved in the previous three years, it was still rated number nine in the list of top ten most dangerous cities in Europe. Surprisingly, only one other British city was higher on the list, and that was Coventry at number seven. Number one was the southern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don (Eric had joked that it would be on Hit Girl's summer holiday list for a recreational break cum killing spree). Other cities were: Bari (2nd place), Turin (3rd place), Naples (4th place), Marseilles (5th place), Lille (6th place), Rotterdam (8th place), and Sarajevo (10th place).

That dubious honour had been shown to everyone and that had sharpened their resolve as they made their way towards a district of eastern Glasgow, partway towards Clydebank. The delightful residential area teemed with crime and more specifically, a criminal gang whose tentacles had wormed themselves throughout Glasgow as a whole, controlling drugs, vehicle crime, extortion, and other equally gainful criminal employment. The gang employed sophisticated counter-surveillance equipment to ensure that they were never caught red-handed. The police never had any evidence against those who were obviously guilty, and witnesses were regularly intimidated as court hearings approached. Links between the criminal gang and certain other criminal organisation within the United Kingdom had brought them to the attention of _Vengeance_.

 _Vengeance_ was about to start a war of attrition against the crime gang.

..._...

It was the first night for Stripe in his new combat suit.

He was clad in black body-armour from head to toe. A broad blood-red stripe wrapped horizontally around his torso with identical stripes around his biceps and thighs. His mask was black and covered his full head and face with eyes which glowed a fiery red. The design was intended to instil fear into his enemies as he fought them. For weapons, the boy carried an H&K SFP9 9-millimetre pistol on his right hip and a pair of 18-inch Tanto swords on his back which would be drawn downwards from above each hip. Poor Kaitlin had looked very uneasy when she had first seen the glowing eyes and she had not been amused when somebody (Electra) had turned out the lights in the changing rooms.

As for Craig, he was very happy with his new combat suit.

..._...

As they approached the target area, they all spread out to cover wider sections and so as not to stand out too easily.

They all knew that the Bowman criminal gang had immense resources at their disposal and that those resources would also include snouts and spies who would report on the comings and goings of law enforcement . . . as well as quasi-legal vigilante groups. To provide extra intelligence, Q had deployed _EAGLE-2_ over the area. The drone would provide high-definition and infra-red video as well as electronic surveillance to the entire area from two-thousand feet in the air. As such, Q was able to provide advance warning of trouble. A camera zoomed down to a certain location: Sutcliffe Road – it was a major drug deal which had just got underway. The Bowman gang supplied several smaller dealers, much in the same manner as a cash and carry supplied stock to small shops.

Such an exchange would bring out the 'big guns' as well as the major players.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Auxiliary Command Centre_**

Harper and Mary were entranced by what they were witnessing.

The computer screens displayed a replica view of what Q was using to guide the teams on the ground. One screen showed a giant moving map with small dots, each labelled with what they were designating. For example, an orange dot pulsing in the Morrisons carpark, less than five-hundred yards from the drug deal was labelled:

 **SABRE:** SCORPION/RIGOUR

Another dot, on Spencer Street was labelled:

NEMESIS/GLIDE

There was another dot on Knightscliffe Avenue, outside the Aldi:

CRIMSON/PROWL

Harper could see other dots, all strategically located around the perimeter. It was not airtight, but it would suit the purposes of intimidation. She also noticed that _Vengeance_ was spread rather thinly, although she grinned at the names listed at the bottom of the screen:

 **VCC:** Q  
 **VACC:** SLEUTH/POLARIS/BELLE

It meant a lot seeing herself listed. At one point. she never thought that she would ever see that name active again, there she was. Despite the pain which still existed as a dull throbbing in her feet and left hand, she was able to focus on the task at hand which helped to push the pain away. The lesson, a short while earlier, for Mary had taken a lot out of Harper and she was a little sore and very tired. Jasper had noticed and he guided the youngster over to a chair and plonked her down.

"Sit down, before you fall down!" he chuckled.

Mary scowled when she saw that Harper was hurting.

"I'm fine – just get on with things," she growled.

Harper's 'lesson' had been a major wakeup call for the girl and when Ginny had checked on Mary, she had been very concerned by her protectee's manner. Mary had reassured Ginny that while it had been humiliating – and somewhat painful – she had learnt a valuable lesson which she would not easily forget.

"Did you have to yank my pubes – they hurt like hell!" Mary groused, and Harper just laughed out loud.

"First time I've ever touched some," Harper replied, somewhat nonchalantly, "and I don't have any myself – so, I was curious."

"I hate you!" Mary smirked.

* * *

 ** _Anniesland, Glasgow_**

Naturally, the spies had clocked _Vengeance's_ arrival in the area and the information had spread like wildfire.

From high above, Q had seen the subtle movements as vehicles and people moved to defensive positions. The police were less of a threat and rarely sent in armed units, however, the deadly vigilante force was something else entirely.

Robert Bowman was the figurehead for the criminal organisation. He was in his early forties and an all-round arsehole. Most normal people would cross over to the other side of the street rather than pass within twenty feet of the man. A scar on his left cheek from a bar fight in his youth made identification easy, even if the dangerous expression did not scare you away the moment you laid eyes on the man. His lieutenants were all family members – his sister: Anna Bowman (a confirmed lesbian and unmarried), his brother-in-law: Ryan Turner (an ex. soldier kicked out of the Parachute Regiment), and his younger brother: Ethan Bowman (a man in his early twenties with pathological tendencies). There were many others below them who enjoyed the power given to them by the Bowman family. The Bowman's looked after those who served them, encouraging almost unfailing loyalty. However, the loyalty was also ensured by a few bloody demonstrations – kneecapping was a favourite, as was pistol whipping; two ends of the same scale for those who upset the Bowman family.

It was with militaristic precision that the drugs were encircled, and more men appeared out of the woodwork to protect their haul.

..._...

Crimson and Prowl had dismounted from their motorcycle at the first sign of impending trouble, and they had both quickly vaulted the fence surrounding the store, before running towards ground zero.

They made it as far as a row of garages before they found themselves impeded by a semi-circle of with men, all armed with varying items, all of which could ruin your day: machetes featured heavily, along with baseball bats, and some truly impressive sections of steel scaffolding. Crimson drew the two sections of her bō-staff while Prowl deployed her Bagh Naka claws from each of her gauntlets. Both vigilantes received mixed looks. As expected, the men enjoyed studying Crimson's curves, and most ignored the diminutive form of Prowl, barely giving her a glance, but those that did, smirked. Four of the men stepped forwards, making aggressive movements with their melee weapons. Crimson simply span her swords, studying each of the men, as Prowl moved a good distance out to one side, allowing Crimson freedom of movement.

"What wall hit you?" Prowl growled as she faced off against a man twice her height and width. "Ugly fuck!"

The man growled as he swung his four-foot-long section of scaffolding at the smaller vigilante. Not surprisingly, he missed as Prowl jumped up, burying her right fist in the man's nose, smashing it.

The man bellowed out in pain as he dropped the section of scaffolding to hold his nose.

..._...

 _SABRE_ , with Scorpion and Rigour had bolted out of the Morrison's carpark before racing over the busy traffic junction and taking a shortcut over the pavement and some grass before roaring down Sutcliffe Road towards where Nemesis and Glide were just closing in from Blackwood Street.

The armoured Range Rover Sentinel slide to a halt almost eighty yards from ground zero, their path blocked by a twin vehicle which had roared out from behind some trees. Nemesis slammed on her brakes after turning to outflank the enemy Sentinel as three men jumped out of the Sentinel and aimed automatic weapons at _SABRE_. Glide deployed, pulling an H &K MP7A1 Personal Defence Weapon around from her back while Nemesis produced an FN P90 PDW. Out of nowhere, a Jaguar XF skidded to a halt and a man jumped out of the driver's seat.

"Okay!" a loud voice bellowed. "This is getting a little out of hand."

Everybody turned to see the man from the Jag standing in the street, his hands visibly at his sides, palms visible. It was Robert Bowman himself. His men had stopped dead at his command. Nemesis raised her own hand, forestalling any further action as Scorpion and Rigour emerged from SABRE.

"Get out of my fucking way!" Crimson growled as she shouldered her way past the seven remaining arseholes with Prowl giving them the benefit of her middle finger as she passed.

Crimson strode directly towards Robert Bowman, ignoring the sneering expression from Anna Bowman. She stopped when she was six feet from the man who towered over her with an extra ten-inches on the vigilante.

"Your reputation precedes you, Crimson," Bowman opened. "Thought we were rid of you earlier this year – then we see you marching triumphantly into fucking Downing Street. Well, well, well."

"Hope you are not _all_ talk," Crimson growled in her electronically enhanced voice. "We came here to say hello. We came here to give you your marching orders."

"Go fuck yourself, you fuckin' bitch!" Anna Bowman cut in.

"Thank you, Anna," Bowman said with a raised hand and his rabid bitch took a step back.

"Nice!" Crimson commented. "I think you need to increase her meds."

"I'll fuckin' kill yah!"

"Anna!" Ethan Bowman warned.

"Where were we?" Bowman mused. "You think you can take us down? Better than you have tried and they're fucking six feet under. Why don't you take your little circus and fuck off out of my city?"

"Now – that is the crux of the problem, Bob – mind if I call you Bob . . . no? Cool."

'Bob' was silently fuming as Crimson continued.

"We don't like abominations like you, Bob. This country has enough problems without arseholes like you causing shit every night. We are here to take you down, Bob. However, we are fair. Should you and your rabid bitch leave town peacefully, then you get to live. If not, we take you apart. Should you not believe us, Bob, go see Craig Allan and Jack McNafferty."

'Bob' was well aware of his competitors being 'taken out', however, there were very few accurate details concerning _how_ they were actually taken out. 'Bob' was actually getting annoyed, not to mention that he _hated_ being called 'Bob'.

"Fuck you, Crimson, and fuck the motorcycle you rode in on!"

Robert Bowman snapped his fingers and a man stepped out of the Jaguar XF which was parked just a few yards away. The man held a Fostech Origin-12 magazine-fed semi-automatic 12-gauge tactical shotgun and he calmly blasted Crimson in the chest with the weapon, and as the vigilante fell to the ground, he ran for cover while Bowman jumped into the Jaguar XF and accelerated away just as all hell broke loose.

Prowl fired off several rounds from her SIG Sauer P938 BRG pistol, but she quickly discovered that the bastard's Jag was armoured.

..._...

The man with the Fostech was pursued by a dozen rounds from Glide's MP7 as he ran to the nearest cover, diving behind a brick wall just as Glide herself came under fire from another of Bowman's men.

There was the roar of high-powered V8 engines as two more armoured vehicles appeared on the scene. _SCIMITAR_ raced to cut off any escape for the men protecting the drug hoard while _CUTLASS_ , an armoured Land Rover Discovery Sentinel raced across pavements and grass to place itself between the gunmen and the prone form of Crimson. Ajax and Forager dived out of CUTLASS, H&K G36K sub-machineguns to their shoulders. They covered Doc as she jumped out of the drivers' seat and then went straight to work, checking on Crimson.

 _SCIMITAR_ , being driven by Raptor, blocked the escape of a Mitsubishi Shogun, forcing the 4x4 into the side of a parked car on Blackwood Street. Harrier, Overrun, and Viridian deployed to provide covering fire as Drift and Stripe rode directly at the men guarding a small Ford van loaded up with illegal substances. The men, five of them, opened fire with pistols. Drift kicked one of the men in the face as he rode past, skidding around as Stripe knocked another to the floor. Stripe hauled his machine around and he made for the next man, cringing as bullets struck his chest.

"Stripe – look out!" came a yell over the radio and Stripe blanched as a man began firing off shotgun shells at him. He veered off to one side, clipping the curb and putting his motorcycle onto its side on some grass. The young teen rolled off his machine and across the grass onto the road. As he came to a stop, the boy felt shotgun pellets striking his combat suit and he quickly drew his Heckler & Koch SFP9M pistol, putting four rounds in the gunman's torso. Bullets were flying in all directions and Stripe quickly pushed off his helmet then dropped it beside his motorcycle. He swiftly dropped another man with a double-tap and he joined up with Overrun, Harrier, and Viridian who were still engaging the three remaining men guarding the small Ford van.

They began to close in on the men who were now very much alone.

..._...

Crimson was fighting sharp pains in her chest, but the seasoned vigilante was otherwise uninjured.

Doc scrambled back into cover inside _CUTLASS_ while Ajax and Forager went after the man who had attacked Crimson so blatantly. Glide was already on his tail, having killed one of Bowman's men and reloaded her MP7. She waved at the two older vigilantes as they closed, directing them into flanking positions around her. Ajax and Forager both followed direction from the younger vigilante and they raised their P90s to their shoulders as they moved forwards.

They had barely moved two dozen feet when several shotgun blasts echoed out from the Fostech Origin-12 shotgun as the gunman ambushed the three vigilantes. Ajax reacted fast, and she shoved Forager and Glide to the ground, taking a shotgun blast in the back as she dived after them. Despite the pain from the dozens of pellets which had struck her armour, Ajax swiftly triggered off a burst from her P90 PDW in the direction of the shotgun blasts and she heard a yelp of pain, followed by two more shotgun blasts.

"He's empty and wounded!" Glide growled as she regained her feet, running forward with Forager covering her back.

Ajax pulled herself into a kneeling position and she covered the approaches to their position with her P90 as Glide and Forager moved in for their attack.

..._...

A short distance away from all the fighting, in the Aldi carpark, Crimson's unattended motorcycle sat beneath a lamppost.

The powerful Triumph Speed 94 in crimson was a wet dream to many hot-blooded males – and enough to get some biker chicks wet where it mattered. The 1,050-cc three-cylinder engine could propel the naked machine to 157.7 miles-per-hour. Such a machine sitting so alluringly naturally drew the attention of those who only saw pound signs in the shape of a motorcycle.

One man braved the lights and the temptation grew too much – he knew exactly who owned the machine; the **V3 NGE** registration plate spelt that out perfectly well – but it was a beautiful machine and it just had to be taken. The man sat astride the machine and as he considered the best way to make off with the machine, he noticed the display beside the speedometer coming to life. The words appeared one at a time:

GET . . . THE . . . FUCK . . . OFF!

He grinned to himself – it was just some simple anti-theft gizmo. He ignored it. But more words appeared.

YOU . . . HAVE . . . TEN . . . SECS!

Considering the owner of the machine, he began to get a little worried, but he figured that there was nothing that could be done to him.

TEN . . . NINE . . . EIGHT . . . SEVEN . . . SIX

He began to get more than little worried, and he seriously considered legging it.

YOU . . . WERE . . . WARNED . . . TWO . . . ONE!

There was a small bang and he suddenly found himself covered in what appeared to be a substance which was more than liquid, but not quite a gel – it tasted salty. Then the man braced up as a 50,000-volt 2-milliamp charge surged through the motorcycle and the substance covering the front of his body. He fell off to his right, landing on the ground, his body still twitching from the capacitance gel which held the charge for a little over two seconds before the current subsided completely.

The man scrambled to his feet and he did his best to run away from the motorcycle.

..._...

The man fumbled swapping out his eight-round box magazine – his last magazine.

He finally got it inserted and locked, then he released the action just as he caught sight of a _Vengeance_ vigilante making an appearance to his left – it was a short one, and for a moment he chuckled. But as he brought his weapon up and fired off his first round, the vigilante dodged left and rolled, avoiding all but a few pellets which struck the side of her facemask. Glide came up onto one knee before emptying her entire fifteen-round magazine into the man, disintegrating his torso and peppering the brickwork of the building behind.

"Fucking cunt!" Glide growled as she inserted a full fifteen-round magazine and turned away from the bloody scene.

The diminutive vigilante soon re-joined her friends and they headed back into the melee.

..._...

A short distance away, Prowl was pushing her luck.

The nine-year-old _Predator_ was operating on her own. When Crimson had gone down, she had headed oout into the darkness after Anna Bowman who had scarpered pretty quickly when things went sideways. Prowl knew that she was breaking just about every rule in the book, but she wanted to take one of them down. She liked the dark – she felt safe and she enjoyed the power of stealth it gave her. The bitch had bolted between two sets of flats where the street lighting was minimal at best. Anna Bowman appeared to be taking a roundabout route, through the darkened sections of grass that surrounded and infiltrated the housing estate. After running a good three hundred yards, the younger sister to Robert Bowman slowed down and she eventually stopped in the shadow of some trees alongside a row of flats. Prowl moved closer, keeping to the shadows and the darkest parts of the area. She was highly trained in making use of available camouflage and her combat suit blended in well to the dark wispy shadows. She took a moment to study her surroundings and she found herself very much alone with the murdering bitch. Anybody who was innocent was inside, cowering from the noise, leaving the stage wide open for Prowl to prowl.

Anna Bowman appeared very pleased with herself. She made no effort to make her way back into the fight – no, she had minions for fighting. Anna Bowman was a coward who made good use of her big brother's reputation to enforce her will on people. Like many cowards, she was also a vicious bully, and she took great joy in hurting people who had no way to defend themselves. She cared less for any minions who were injured or killed in the name of the Bowman family. She also believed herself to be invincible – and to a point, she was. Nobody dared touch her or even to look her in the eye, such was the fear instilled by her big brother. She enjoyed being an untouchable. Her life had been hard, but that was no excuse for her chosen profession. One aspect of having brothers was that Anna Bowman knew how to fight, and she could give as good as she got, but only when she knew that she could win.

Prowl struck out of the darkness and when she was mere feet from the enemy, she ran hard, putting every ounce of energy into her arms and thighs as she broke into a sprint before cannoning into the woman, knocking her down to the ground. Anna Bowman was stunned by the attack – nobody _ever_ attacked _her_! She had not heard her attacker approach, but she quickly figured out that it was not a large attacker as Prowl punched her in the face. Anna's brain quickly processed what was going on and she figured that it was one of the smaller _Vengeance_ vigilantes who had tracked her through the darkness. Anna could see the shape of her attacker and the unnervingly blue eyes, twinkling in the darkness. Anna rammed an elbow into the vigilante's chest, shoving the attacker away from her.

Prowl rolled onto the grass, springing back up and lashing out with her claws, ripping into clothing on the first swipe, and then skin with the second. Her target bellowed out in pain as her flesh was ripped open on her stomach. Prowl used her armoured elbows, knees, and feet to good advantage against Anna Bowman who had no such protection. Anna swiftly reached behind her back and she produced a wicked looking combat knife of about eight inches in length. Prowl was not fazed one bit by the weapon – she knew that she was safe from blades of any type.

"That all you got, bitch?" Prowl growled in her electronically synthesised voice.

"It's enough to put an end to you, you little fuck!" Anna responded as the two fighters circled one another.

Prowl blocked the first attack, then the second, but she fell back on the third, falling onto the grass. The blade came down towards her head, but Prowl was able to block the blade with the claws on her right gauntlet. The deadly blade was forced away from Prowl with all her considerable strength which surprised Anna enough for her to give way. Prowl quickly rolled to regain her feet and a better fighting stance – the ground was decisive death for any fighter. As the fight progressed, Prowl began to realise her mistake in moving away from the others and her decision not to use her pistol; she had wanted to kill the woman in close quarters combat.

Then things went very bad for Prowl as three men appeared out of the darkness and attacked her.

..._..

Back in the melee, Drift was engaged in a gunfight with three men using a crashed Mitsubishi Shogun as shelter from the gunfire.

He was being supported by Viridian and they were both hammering away at the Shogun 4x4 with FN P90s. The bullets were easily shedding the steel bodywork, but the vehicle had Kevlar layers which were causing problems. With covering fire from Drift, Viridian moved closer, rolling on the tarmac into a position from where he could direct his gunfire in a flanking movement to blindside the enemy. However, he found himself blindsided by a large man armed with a machete. In the blink of an eye, the blade came down on Viridian's left leg. The man grinned, but not for long as a stunned expression crossed his ugly mug.

"If you've scratched my good leg, I'll fucking come back and kill you again!" Viridian growled as he fired a three-round burst up into the ugly bastard's groin.

Two of the bullets rushed vertically up the man's body, blowing apart his skull while the third shattered the man's pelvis. Viridian did not hang around to witness the man's destruction but instead, he moved into his intended flanking position and gunned down two of the men taking cover behind the Shogun. The third man was shredded by Drift.

As Drift studied the area, he could see the fighting coming to an end – the final few men opting to scatter rather than fight the seasoned vigilantes.

..._...

Four-on-one may be deemed easy odds, even unsportsmanlike, but to a _Predator_ , it was just extended exercise.

The girl did not panic, instead, she took stock of the situation and she altered her fighting style accordingly to put herself into a better position and even out the odds. That meant using all her weapons and skills. She put Anna Bowman out of her mind and she focussed on the major threat – the three men. They did not bother to coordinate their attack which was a huge mistake on their part, and the main reason for their downfall. The first man tried to strike Prowl, but his arm was seized by Prowl's clawed right palm and wrenched around, tearing the ligaments located around the man's right elbow, almost destroying the joint. The man fell to one side cradling his damaged right arm. He was quickly replaced by another attacker who managed to grab Prowl around the neck, but only for a moment as three sharp cracks later and the man fell to the ground grasping his right thigh which was spilling copious amounts of blood out onto the grass. As for the third man, he dodged around his fallen colleagues and tried to outmanoeuvre the armour-clad vigilante. He was able to close and as he tried to grab for Prowl, the youngster jumped up and scrambled onto the man's shoulder, before putting three rounds into the man's torso from above.

As the body slumped to the ground, Prowl focussed on Anna Bowman who had been watching the fight, waiting for what she saw as the inevitable downfall of the scrawny vigilante. Her grin had rapidly faded as the third man had died and she saw the blue eyes focussing back on her. She flinched as the vigilante rolled on the grass and brought her pistol up. Prowl squeezed the trigger of her SIG Sauer 938 BRG pistol, but nothing happened. There was no time to clear the jam as Anna Bowman bolted for safety. The woman never saw death pursuing her as she faced away from the vigilante. She never heard death coursing through the cold night. She barely felt the razor-sharp point of the combat knife entering her back on her left side, the point piercing her heart and causing the vital organ to rupture and spill precious blood inside her chest cavity, but most importantly, all blood flow to her body stopped.

Prowl grinned inside her mask as she saw the woman fall to her knees and then face down into the grass, twitching for almost a full minute before all movement ceased forever.

..._...

As Glide had looked around after the fight, she wondered why she could not see _SABRE_ – nor Scorpion and the ever-happy Rigour.

As soon as the fighting had kicked off, Scorpion had grabbed hold of Rigour and all but thrown her into _SABRE_. The girl had made an attempt at arguing, but she had quickly sat down and fastened herself in as Scorpion executed a perfect highspeed J-turn before roaring off up the housing estate.

"What the hell are we doing?" Rigour demanded, angry that she had been pulled out of the fight just as it as kicking off.

"We need to cut off any of Bowman's reinforcements," Scorpion responded as she slewed the heavy armoured Range Rover around the corner into Hemlock Street.

"Okay – where might they be coming in from?"

At the end of the street, Scorpion turned sharp right into Fulton Street where she then put _SABRE_ across the street, blocking the road completely. She jumped out and walked around to the rear of _SABRE_ where she was rapidly joined by the ever-eager Rigour. Scorpion opened the rear of the 4x4 and she pulled out a weapons tray, selecting a Kel-Tec KSG bullpup 12-gauge shotgun which she proceeded to load with fifteen rounds while Rigour pulled open another drawer and she selected an FN P90 and swiftly inserted a loaded fifty-round magazine, taking another pair just in case. Once done, the pair of vigilantes closed up SABRE and took up positions to watch for reinforcements.

They did not have long to wait.

..._...

Within ten minutes, headlights could be seen blazing brightly and headed directly for them.

The vehicles came at speed, three of them – they were not Police, nor any other kind of law enforcement, but they _were_ there to enforce the law: Bowman's law. The three vehicles slewed to a stop; their route blocked. They could have easily backtracked and gone a different way around, but the route currently blocked by _SABRE_ was the most direct route to reinforce their comrades and avoid _Vengeance_. Twelve men climbed out of the three 4x4s and they immediately came under fire from Scorpion and Rigour, forcing the men into cover behind their vehicles which were rapidly shredded with the 5.7-millimetre rounds of the P90. Rigour loved firing the awesome weapon with the large capacity magazine and she felt right at home with it as she targeted the men. For the most part, the men stayed hidden which suited Scorpion as she had no desire to kill the men, just to keep them pinned down. After several minutes, some of the reinforcements appeared to lose heart and they ran – _away_ from the fighting.

Over the radio, they could hear the results of the main fight as each group of Bowman's men were put down. The sound of gunfire began to diminish, replaced by the sound of hand-to-hand fighting and the yells of the wounded. Rigour took a chance, running forwards and jumping onto the bonnet of a Land Rover Discovery, continuing up onto the roof of the vehicle. She ran along the roof and put a bullet into every leg which she saw, putting down four men, just as Scorpion came up and covered the rest with her shotgun. They all gave up the fight then and there. Seven men were left lying on the pavement beside the road, their wrists bound with plastic ties. Scorpion and Rigour climbed back into _SABRE_ and headed off down the street, taking a right onto Succoth Street, racing along and taking a brief dogleg across Sutcliffe road into Glencoe street where Scorpion slammed on the brakes beside Prowl.

"What the fuck are you doing all the way down here?" Scorpion demanded. "Get the fuck in!"

Rigour turned to look at her friend expectantly.

"I just killed Anna Bowman."

"You sure?" Rigour countered.

"She ain't getting back on her feet, any time soon – I cleaved her heart in two."

"That'll piss of Bowman," Scorpion commented.

"I can live with that," Prowl responded.

* * *

 ** _Later that night_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Edinburgh_**

Jasper had brought Harper, Ginny, and Mary through to Edinburgh while the teams were on the way back home.

Keira grinned as Jasper pointed the returning vigilante over to her sister. Harper was fast asleep on the sofa, at peace and worn out by the night's escapades. Beside her, Mary was keeping her company and telling anybody and everybody that came near to be quiet. Electra, of course, had to push that a little.

"Of course, Your Royal Highness; we'll be as quiet as a mouse."

Mary had scowled at her friend as Keira just laughed.

* * *

 ** _That same evening_**

 ** _Auchenross_**

The two girls were both feeling guilty and the looks they were receiving from Sinead across the table at dinner were not exactly pleasant.

"What did you do?" Charlotte asked Dakota.

Dakota looked up at Sinead or glared pointedly in response.

"I've been speaking my mind rather than keeping my big mouth shut," Dakota explained. "I told my maths teacher that his class was boring and he was mind-numbingly sleep-inducing."

There were a few muffled coughs emitted by Sinead.

"The teacher was not amused and he said so – I swore at him and stormed out of the class," Dakota went on. "The same thing kind of happened in Biology when I fell asleep and the teacher woke me up by banging the desk – I told him to go, err . . . sexually assault himself."

"I understand that you were quite explicit in what he should do, too," Sinead pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"I kind of suggested that he should take his dick and ram it up his arse."

"But he did say that he was very impressed with your anatomically correct terminology," Sinead commented dryly.

Dakota's face went very red and she slunk down in her chair. Charlotte giggled but then stopped as she received a glare from Sinead.

"You, Charlotte, are in worse trouble as you actually hit a boy and you hurt him."

"But . . ."

"No!" Sinead said loudly and pointedly. "There is no excuse for it, Charlotte. The both of you are not doing well. Maybe these should make a comeback."

Sinead threw two items down onto the dining table and both girls recoiled in fright at the sight of the ankle monitors.

"You were both warned, yes?"

Both girls nodded.

"I can't hear you!"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Do you both understand _why_ you are being punished?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Do you both understand that you have done something wrong?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"That's a start."

Both girls had been concerned to find that Sinead's parents had gone off for the entire weekend, leaving the girls at Sinead's mercy.

"Finish your dinner, please, and then it's bed for the both of you. No messing about. If you can be good, Charlotte, you can sleep in the same room as Dakota."

Both girls grinned and nodded.

"Tomorrow will be hard on you both, but I know that you can both take it. Get a good night's sleep – you _will_ need it," Sinead said ominously.

..._...

As the girls changed for bed, they did not talk much.

However, as they both slid under the covers in Dakota's bed, Charlotte grinned fiendishly. She looked over at her older friend.

"What?" Dakota asked.

"Please keep your hands to yourself, 'kota," Charlotte said.

Dakota scowled but then she grinned.

"You have nothing worth touching, Charlie."

"That's low!" Charlotte retorted with a hurt expression.

"Just 'cause I don't fancy boys, does not mean that I'm going to have my hands all over a girl sharing my bed, Charlie – besides as I said, your tits are tiny."

"Thanks, 'kota – night!"

"Night, Charlie."

* * *

 ** _A short time before midnight_**

 ** _Glasgow_**

Robert Bowman struggled with his emotions as he looked down at his sister's dead body.

He felt sadness, but mostly it was anger. He wanted vengeance, and he would get _Vengeance_. A line had been crossed and the war which neither side had outwardly declared had suddenly ignited into something that Bowman would not back down from. He had resources. He had friends. He would not stop until _Vengeance_ was destroyed and he had sought revenge for the death of his sister. Her killer would pay with more than their life. They would suffer a fate worse than any death.

A man stepped out of the shadows in the morgue and Bowman turned to face the man.

"Chief Inspector, I hope I can count on your assistance in this," Bowman commented.

"Of course, Mr Bowman."


	59. A New Home

**_Saturday, December 17th, 2016_**

 ** _Dreadnought House, Dollar_**

"Holy fucking shit!"

Cassie laughed at Kaitlin whose mouth was about to say the same thing, but Jake had beaten her to it. Kaitlin glared at the boy. Cassie was getting annoyed with the eight-year-old's unnecessary and uncalled for disdain in relation to the boy. The boy had been with them almost a week and Kaitlin had barely said more than a few words to him. Anyway, back to the house.

It was a new house and it would be the new home for Cassie, Andrew, Kaitlin, Naomi, and Jake – not to mention Sasha.

..._...

The property was a Georgian-style country home set in the middle of nowhere, about six miles from the town of Dollar and 34 miles from Edinburgh.

As you turned off the B934 road, you were met by a set of electric wrought iron gates which led to a pebbled driveway which in turn led over a small bridge to the main house which had a detached quadruple garage off to the right. A small burn ran to one side of the house, beneath the bridge. The pebbled driveway encircled the house and a good-sized pond sat to the front of the house as part of a beautifully landscaped garden within grounds of about 1.7-acres. The property was south-facing, ensuring the warmth of the sun throughout most of the day. Well-established trees and shrubs surrounded the perfectly lawned areas. There were additional lawned areas to the rear and side of the property with a mix of young and mature coniferous trees to the rear.

The house, itself, offered luxury accommodation spread over two floors with four bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. A covered porch area provided access to a pair of wooden doors made of thick oak. Those doors opened onto the main entrance hallway which led to each of the many rooms on the ground floor. The floor was carpeted and there was a feature fireplace to the right of the front door. Solid wood panelling clung to the lower half of the walls. Immediately to the left was a comfortable sitting room with its own feature fireplace and windows to the front and a carpeted floor. Across the hall from the sitting room was the formal dining room, a substantial room which could seat eight easily, and more besides. Apart from windows to the front, two sets of glazed double doors opened onto the living room.

The living room featured a large bay window, to the front of the property, and enough space to seat a dozen people with plenty of floor space. Another feature fireplace featured on the east wall. From the living room, a pair of glazed double doors led back into the main entrance hallway while a smaller door led into the Pantry. Returning through to the entrance hall there was a doorway to a smaller hall with the kitchen to the right with the pantry and utility room on the far side of the kitchen. A guest bedroom with ensuite existed opposite the kitchen. The kitchen had a tiled floor and there was an AGA, in addition to a smaller, more conventional oven with a four-burner gas hob. The kitchen had two windows overlooking the back and roadside of the property. A door to the rear garden led from the pantry. Also leading off from the main entrance hallway, there was a large snooker room with a full-size snooker table towards the western end of the property at the rear. After a study beside the staircase, another bedroom with ensuite completed the ground-floor rooms.

The carpeted staircase led up to the first-floor. All four first-floor bedrooms were accessed from the capacious first-floor landing. As well as the main staircase, there was also a fire escape stairwell with access to the outside of the property at ground level. Each of the four bedrooms had full ensuite facilities with both a bath and a shower while the master bedroom also enjoyed the benefits of a jacuzzi as well as a large dressing room.

Externally, there was a large detached quadruple garage with one large double door and two single doors all accessing the one large internal area with ample space for four large vehicles.

..._...

"This . . . place . . . is . . . bloody . . . am-AZING!" Kaitlin exclaimed as she ventured into the main entrance hallway.

Very quickly, the three kids found the stairs and they vanished upwards in search of the bedrooms which they would be able to call their own. They each stopped dead at the top of the stairs, amazed by the space. Jake promptly grabbed Kaitlin and he threw her over his shoulder and down to the floor.

"Hey!" Kaitlin demanded indignantly from the carpeted floor. "What was that for?"

"I wanted to see if there was enough space to swing a cat," Jake replied smoothly. "I couldn't find a cat, so I thought a Kaitlin would do."

Naomi laughed out loud as her cousin/sister scowled.

"What are you doing down there, Kaitlin?" Cassie asked as she came off the stairs onto the landing.

"Jake. . ."

"Don't blame the boy because you can't stand on your own two feet!" Cassie chastised with a wink.

Kaitlin stood up and she scowled before grinning insanely. She looked at each of the many doors before she focussed on four of them; they each had a small china plaque mounted two-thirds of the way from the floor. The one to her right read: 'Naomi'. The next around read: 'No Predators Allowed' – Kaitlin scowled at Cassie before moving on. The third plaque read: 'Jake'. The final door read: 'Kaitlin'. Each child made for their own door and plunged on through.

Cassie and Andrew ignored the shrieks and shouts of happiness as they pushed open the door with the 'No Predators Allowed' plaque.

..._...

Kaitlin _loved_ her new bedroom.

It was pink – _very_ pink. She had a brand-new bed with pink fluffy pillows and a thick duvet with a pink 'My Little Pony' themed cover. She was grinning so badly, she thought that she might pull a muscle in her face. She peered out of the window and she found herself looking out over the garden to the rear of the property. On one wall, there was a desk and a chair with an array of books along with paper and loads of colouring pens and coloured pencils. She ran into _her_ bathroom and she found that the window looked out to the side of the property. Inside, she had fluffy pink towels for when she washed, took a bath, or enjoyed a shower. She had an assortment of soaps, body washes, and bubble bath.

She could not wait to test it all out, as soon as possible.

..._...

Across the corridor, Jake was a little bemused by everything.

His bedroom also overlooked the garden to the rear of the property, but there was also a little window looking out onto the large detached garage to the side of the house. He had a comfortable bed with blue bedding – naturally. He also had a desk equipped with everything he might need to do his homework, he thought sourly. His bathroom was also equipped with some high-quality blue towels and an array of shower gel and soap. The boy took a moment to sit down on 'his' bed and he felt something running down his cheek. He reached up and he found it was a tear. For a moment he had no idea why he was crying, but then it hit him like a bullet striking a watermelon.

For the first time in over four years, he actually had a bedroom which he could call his very own.

..._...

As for Naomi, her bedroom was on the opposite corner to Jake's bedroom.

The walls were painted in a pale purple colour which in Naomi's eyes was perfect. The curtains were a deep purple, complimenting the walls and broadening the smile on the young girl's face. The bed had cream and purple bedding with lots of soft pillows and a thick duvet. Beside the window which overlooked the front garden, there was a desk with lots of arts and craft type items which had the girl smiling even further, if that were even possible. The bathroom was compact, but well-equipped, with both a shower and a bath. Overall, she was very happy with her bedroom.

'Her bedroom' – the nine-year-old liked the sound of that.

..._...

Cassie and Andrew were in their own bedroom which was at the front of the house, just like Naomi's.

They also had a _massive_ dressing room with plenty of wardrobe space, drawers, a pair of comfortable chairs and a coffee table. Cassie was hugging her fiancé and she was looking forward to 'testing' the bed . . . and the floor . . . and the bath . . . maybe the shower, too. However, before she could make any moves on Andrew, she began to hear a disconcerting sound emanating from the landing. Cassie ran out of the dressing room towards the sound of tears and she found Kaitlin sitting on the landing, sobbing her little heart out.

"What's this all about?" Cassie asked as she crouched down beside the girl, and it was a few seconds before the tears eased enough for Kaitlin to respond.

"I love my new bedroom . . . only . . . I'll miss Naomi."

The tears began again, in earnest, and Cassie looked up to see Naomi standing close to them in stunned silence. Cassie understood why the youngster was so shocked; Naomi had never considered that Kaitlin really liked her. The nine-year-old went over to sit next to the miserable eight-year-old and she put her arm around her little cousin/sister.

"I'll still be here – just in that room, over there," Naomi offered.

"But I'm used to you being right there."

"You're a big girl, Kaitlin; you'll be nine soon," Naomi replied. "You can survive me being a few extra feet away, I'm, sure."

"I know – I'm sorry for being such a wus."

"You're just human, Kaitlin," Naomi replied.

..._...

As they returned down the staircase into the main entrance hallway, they all stopped to watch Sasha as he rolled around on the carpet and then bolted from one end of the house to the other . . . and then back again.

The dog appeared to be having the time of his life as he explored his new home, but once he saw the two girls, he ran for the front door, barking. Naomi ran over, and she opened the front door, allowing the young dog to bolt for freedom. Kaitlin ran after the animal as Sasha made for the large pond where he began to stick his nose into the cold water and sniff around. Cassie grinned – Sasha appeared happy with his new home, too! However, she scowled as she saw Jake hanging around by the front door of the house while the two girls ran around the front garden, checking everything out. Cassie quickly caught Naomi's eye and she tipped her head towards the lonely-looking boy. Naomi followed Cassie's glance and she nodded before running directly at Jake and slapping the boy on the chest.

"You're it!" she shouted before bolting to safety as Jake suddenly bolted after her.

Cassie laughed as Naomi screamed while zig-zagging to avoid the pursuing twelve-year-old who had longer legs and probably much more energy. Kaitlin was a little slow to catch on, but she quickly caught up as Jake slapped her on the shoulder.

"You're it!" Jake yelled, sprinting away.

"Cunt!" Kaitlin countered as she sprinted after the rapidly vanishing boy.

Kaitlin pursued the boy around the house, putting everything into her legs as she struggled to keep up with the much older boy. Jake was laughing as he ran, easily staying ahead of the small girl who appeared very angry with him for some reason. She also appeared to have a good, if incredibly foul, vocabulary which had Jake laughing even harder. As the boy came around the back of the house, he found Naomi ahead of him and he grinned at the girl before he dove to the grass, and Kaitlin, not having seen Naomi, cannoned into her. Both girls went down hard, rolling on the grass. Kaitlin jumped up and she was about to restart her pursuit of Jake when it occurred to her that she already had her target and she slapped Naomi on the chest.

"You're it, Naomi!"

"Bollocks!" Naomi growled as she regained her feet and ran after the fleeing eight-year-old.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

After an afternoon back at Blairhoyle, packing their clothes and personal effects, they all returned to their new home and as it was late, they sat down to dinner.

Cassie was annoyed as they sat, eating steak, egg, and chips. For some reason or other, Jake was totally blanked by Kaitlin. Naomi would engage the boy in conversation, as would Andrew and Cassie, but Kaitlin barely acknowledged him when he asked Kaitlin to pass the ketchup. Cassie had hoped that the wild game, earlier that day would have the kids bonding, but no. Naomi could see no valid reason for her cousin's behaviour, although she figured that it had something to do with Jake being a boy.

After dinner, the kids were all sent upstairs to bed.

..._...

After half an hour, Cassie headed up the stairs with Andrew who went to speak with Jake while Cassie made a beeline for Kaitlin's bedroom.

"Naomi, your bedroom, please."

Naomi scampered out of Kaitlin's bedroom and over towards her own. Kaitlin looked up at Cassie and she groaned.

"We need to talk, little one," Cassie began.

"I'm _really_ tired," Kaitlin complained as she scrambled under her duvet and closed her eyes. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

Cassie was not fooled for even a second; she knew the little girl's habits, mannerisms, and tell-tales far too well. Cassie grinned as she sat cross-legged on the end of Kaitlin's bed.

"You too tired for a cuddle, then?"

"That is _so_ low!" Kaitlin growled as she threw back her duvet and crawled over to Cassie, plonking herself down in Cassie's lap and cuddling into her.

Cassie wrapped her arms around the youngster.

"What's so wrong about him?" Cassie asked. "You tolerate Craig."

"He's different."

"He's a boy – if you want, I can get Olivia on the phone to confirm that biological fact?" Cassie teased.

"Funny! Why do we need a boy?"

"I thought that you might like a brother – I always wished for one, to be honest."

"I hate boys – they're annoying and they smell."

"Now, I know that that is complete bullshit!" Cassie responded. "You can still run around naked – I'm sure Jake won't mind."

Kaitlin giggled.

"The boy's been through a lot – just like you and Naomi. Why should he not have a chance at having a family?"

"I'm not saying he can't – just not here."

"If he is to stay with us, it has to work for us all," Cassie said. "We can send him back to Mindy, if you want. Mindy told me that he was really happy about coming to Scotland. You know what he said to Mindy when she told him about you and Naomi?"

"What?"

"He said: 'Girl _Predators_ are bitches' – I think he's right."

Kaitlin frowned, and her shoulders slumped. Andrew came in just then and he did not look very pleased.

"Jake is not a happy boy: he thinks that Kaitlin hates him and that he doesn't belong here. To be honest, I felt ashamed that Kaitlin would treat him like he was nothing."

Kaitlin cringed at the comment.

"I'm being really nasty, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," Cassie replied.

"I didn't mean to be nasty."

"But that was the way it came across. The boy just wants to be friendly, but you shrug him off and ignore him. Maybe you aren't the girl I thought you were," Andrew said.

Ouch! Kaitlin suddenly realised what she had done – some of it subconsciously. She bounded out of Cassie's arms and she ran over to Jake's room, shoving open the door. The boy was sitting on his bed and it was obvious that he had been crying. Kaitlin stood before him and she smiled.

"I'm sorry, Jake. I went too far. I want you to stay. I promise I'll be less of a bitch."

"I couldn't work out what I had done to offend you."

"You did nothing, Jake – I just saw you as a threat, I suppose. You were something different. I'm really sorry."

"No harm done, I suppose," Jake grinned.

"Friends?" Kaitlin asked, holding out her right hand.

"Friends," Jake confirmed, shaking the outstretched hand.

"Night!"

"Night, Kaitlin."

Jake scrambled under his duvet, a massive grin on his face. Cassie smiled down at Kaitlin as she scampered back to her bed and dived under the quilt.

"Proud of you, little one," she said as she gave Kaitlin a kiss.

"We both are," Andrew confirmed.

Kaitlin dived out of her bed and she wrapped herself around Andrew, hugging him tightly. It took a minute to prise Kaitlin off him and he dropped her onto the bed. He took a moment to study the bruising on the righthand side of the youngster's face where some shotgun pellets had pelted her mask the previous evening. Her angelic face was marred by the bruising but the little girl grinned through it. Andrew could see plenty of other bruises on the girl's chest, arms, and legs from the fighting. He hated to see kids with bruises, but Kaitlin had gained them by being a hero and ultimately helping others.

"Night, little one," Cassie said as she turned out the light and closed the door.

"Night, Cassie!" Kaitlin yelled out. "Night, Andrew! Night, Naomi! Night, Jake! Night, Sasha!"

Cassie groaned, and she looked up at Andrew. "Here we go. . ." she moaned.

"Night, Cassie!" Naomi yelled back. "Night, Andrew! Night, Kaitlin! Night, Jake! Night, Sasha!"

Not to be left out, Sasha barked twice. Then another voice joined in the yelling.

"Night, Cassie!" Jake yelled very loudly. "Night, Andrew! Night, Naomi! Night, Kaitlin! Night, Sasha!"

Sasha added a further bark from his position on the end of Naomi's bed.

..._...

After a brief check around to ensure that everything was locked up, Cassie and Andrew retired to their bedroom.

They were just getting settled and Andrew was warming Cassie up to christen their new bed when there came a knock on the bedroom door. It was Kaitlin who strode in and dived onto the bed, crawling up towards Cassie.

"What do you want, little one?"

"I just wanted to say thanks for setting me straight," Kaitlin replied before she scowled. "Are you both naked?"

Cassie grinned fiendishly.

"That is _so_ disgusting!" Kaitlin growled as she quickly reversed off the bed and walked back to the door.

Then she paused as she looked up to see a yellow sign on the wall beside the door. Her expression darkened considerably as she turned to glare at Cassie.

"That is _so_ not funny!"

Kaitlin stalked out, pulling the door closed behind her. Cassie grinned up at the sign as she checked her bedside cabinet for a certain bright yellow device. The sign was yellow, with black writing, and had a triangular image of a person being Tasered.

'CAUTION: DANGER OF ELECTROCUTION!'

* * *

 ** _That same morning_**

 ** _Auchenross_**

It was still dark when the two girls were roused from sleep.

Both girls covered their eyes as the overhead light was turned on and they both groaned loudly and pointedly. The duvet was yanked off them both and the two girls shivered with the cold of the bedroom.

"Alright, ladies!" Sinead bellowed. "Get your backsides out of that bed. You have FIVE minutes to pee before I want you downstairs in the kitchen. You will wear underwear, T-shirt, shorts, trainer socks, and trainers – nothing else!"

Sinead vanished, leaving the two girls to wake up and sort themselves out. Charlotte was the first to make use of the bathroom and as she came back into the bedroom, she began grousing while dressing.

"This is just like being back in Colorado!" she stated as she pulled off the T-shirt she had slept in and pulled on knickers and a sports bra.

"One difference, though," Dakota pointed out. "Sinead has _our_ best interests at heart – and she doesn't carry a baton or a strap."

"Good point."

..._...

"It's still dark!" Charlotte exclaimed as they entered the kitchen.

"So?" Sinead replied.

The two girls exchanged a glance and they both decided that no excuse was going to get them out of the punishments, so it was better if they just sucked it up and got with it. After all, the quicker they began, the quicker they would finish. Sinead watched the soundless exchange as she opened the kitchen door and both girls jumped back from the blast of cold night air. Sinead was clad in warm joggers and her Royal Marines T-shirt, along with a pair of lightweight combat boots. Sinead waved the girls out the door and she followed the reluctant pair, closing the door behind her. Without a word, Sinead began to jog away from the house and towards the road. Soundlessly, the two girls followed suit, running side by side.

Charlotte was the first to scream as her left foot splashed into a very wet, very cold, and slightly muddy puddle. The water soaked her bare legs, making them even colder, her left trainer sopping wet. But she did not complain, but just dug deep for the stamina to get through the punishment. Sinead led them out of the drive and she turned right onto the very dark road. After thirty yards, she vaulted a five-bar metal gate into a field. Both girls followed suit, demonstrating their athletic ability. Charlotte was glad of Hit Girl's fitness regime back in the United States as both her and Dakota were still as fit as they had ever been. Dakota was taller, and her legs were longer, as were Sinead's, meaning that Charlotte had to put in some extra effort to keep up.

Sinead was no monster, but she was a stern disciplinarian and she kept the pace suitable for Charlotte, but not too slow as to benefit Dakota. They ran over slippery grass which was covered in the early morning dew and some frost. The pace kept all three of them warm as their bodies produced heat. They ran up hills and over rocks. Both girls were hopelessly lost after twenty minutes and they were a little puffed out, but still capable of a lot more. Sinead enjoyed taking both girls through parts of the fields which she knew were both boggy and muddy. Dakota laughed out loud as Charlotte went face down into some mud, skidding to a halt, totally covered from head to toe on her front. That did not last for long as Dakota slipped, and she rolled into a bog, soaking herself to the skin and covering herself in mud on her back _and_ her front. Both girls laughed as did Sinead who turned the group towards home and it was with intense happiness that the two girls saw lights and then recognised Auchenross and the prospect of warmth. Sinead took the side door which led past the boiler room and the laundry. She pointed up the back stairs.

"Use the shower room at the top of the stairs and please bring your dirty clothes back down to the laundry when you've both showered and changed, then we can have breakfast."

..._...

The first rays of dawn were beginning to show as the two girls shed their wet, muddy clothing and they both shared the shower, enjoying the hot water as they struggled to remove the mud from each other's hair.

By the time they were clean, had dried off, dressed, and they had dumped their sodden and muddy clothing in the laundry, they found Sinead – herself showered and changed - in the kitchen placing a pair of frying pans on the Aga.

"Dakota – get the bacon, sausage, black pudding, and eggs from the fridge, please. Charlotte – that cupboard, over there, please grab two cans of baked beans and a can of plum tomatoes, thanks."

Both girls followed instructions and they grabbed the food for Sinead, bringing it over to her as she poured some oil in to the two hot frying pans.

"Charlotte – you can do the bacon while Dakota – you can do the sausage and black pudding. I'll sort out the baked beans and the tomatoes. The eggs we can do last. I hope you two are hungry!" Sinead chuckled.

Both girls were starving, and the run had made them ravenous for food of any kind. As Charlotte began placing rashers of bacon in one frying pan, Dakota placed rectangular sections of sausage into the other frying pan along with thick, round slices of black pudding. Sinead was busy opening the tins of beans and tomatoes, emptying the contents into a pair of Pyrex jugs before placing both jugs into the microwave and setting the timer for five minutes. By the time the microwave 'pinged', the bacon was doing nicely, and Charlotte was turning each rasher and adding more to the pan as they shrivelled up.

The sausage and black pudding were both crackling and spitting under the guidance of Dakota as the kitchen filled with the enticing smells of breakfast.

..._...

Charlotte poured some orange juice out for everybody as Dakota began dishing out the food onto hot plates laid out on the counter opposite the Aga.

Sinead placed several slices of toast into a toast rack in the centre of the table, adding marmalade and butter to the bottles of Ketchup and HP sauce. Charlotte added to the table three mugs of freshly made hot tea, just as Dakota placed three plates of food onto the table and everybody sat down. Sinead raised her hand just as the two girls were about to dive in.

"You both did very well, this morning – this is your reward," she said with a reassuring grin. "Dig in!"

Both girls dived into their breakfast with barely concealed gusto, stuffing food into their mouths as quickly as they could. Sinead chuckled as she dug in with more thought as to manners than the two girls.

"Is that it, then?" Dakota asked hopefully as she took a breather from eating.

Charlotte grinned just as hopefully.

"Hit Girl has nothing on me," Sinead chuckled fiendishly.

Both girls groaned but they grinned too, knowing that they were in safe hands.

..._...

At the end of the meal, the two girls helped to clear away the dirty plates, glasses, cups, and cutlery.

Dakota moved towards the dishwasher, but Sinead intercepted her.

"Dishwasher isn't working, this morning," she said as she flicked off the switch labelled: 'Dishwasher'.

Dakota scowled as she figured out what was coming.

"This part of our punishment, too?" she asked resignedly.

"Have fun, girls!" Sinead chuckled as she sat down at the table and she pulled out a car magazine to read.

Dakota groaned as she started to fill the kitchen sink with hot water, squirting in some Fairy Liquid to help things along. She began to wash the dirty dishes as Charlotte passed them over to her. The two girls were not too put out by the punishment – usually, a punishment involved humiliation and the strap, so washing up was not exactly arduous to a pair of _Predators_. The pair talked a little but mainly concentrated on the task as their training directed. Charlotte's mind drifted into her dark and murky past.

Her first ever punishment had been when she was just eight-years-old. It had shocked her to her core. She had been brought up believing that nobody ever hit a girl. That assumption vanished very quickly as her instructor had stripped her half-naked and then taken the strap across her bare behind three times. She had never felt such pain in her entire life. It was like her backside was on fire and she had screamed and screamed. However, that was not the last time that Charlotte had been strapped and humiliated.

"Excuse me? Charlie?"

Charlotte snapped back to the present to see Dakota holding out her hand for the next dirty plate.

"Sorry – my mind was wandering."

Both girls were giggling by the time they had finished washing and drying everything which had been used to cook and consume breakfast – and both were very wet from splashing one another. Sinead had allowed them to have some fun – she knew all about their history and she allowed them some semblance of fun. Both girls were pleasant to have around. Sinead was fully aware that both were certified killers – but then so was she. She was not intending on being hard on the girls – she just wanted them to understand how to behave in their new lives.

It would not be easy for them as their bad habits were so ingrained during such formative years of their young lives.

..._...

Sinead allowed the girls an hour to themselves before summoning both of them to the gym on the top floor, right at the top of the house.

The floor was partially covered in soft matting and there were various weights and two benches. Extending out from the end wall, there was a punchbag. Both girls felt a little uneasy and they were wondering what was coming next.

"I understand that you both have training in close-quarters-combat," Sinead commented as both girls nodded. "During your time in the US, you both indicated a reluctance to fight – and I don't mean that in a bad way. However, you both have skills which I would like to see. Do either of you object to some simple sparring?"

Both girls shook their heads. The three of them took up positions on the mat and they slowly exchanged a few Martial Arts moves. The moves got faster as they warmed up and Sinead decided to figure out how good the two girls really were. She could cope with fighting two on one so a twelve-year-old plus a fourteen-year-old were child's play – ignoring the obvious pun. Sinead was taller than both girls while Dakota had a few inches on her younger friend which meant that each girl was using a different tactic to cover for the difference in height. The girls were skilled, that was blatantly obvious, and Sinead could see the intense concentration in both sets of eyes as they watched Sinead's movements to figure out her next move.

Dakota's eyes moved constantly, catching each and every movement of her opponent. Her over five years of intensive training had given her a set of skills that encompassed many forms of fighting both armed and unarmed. As she fought Sinead, Charlotte was kicked off to one side to allow Sinead to focus on Dakota. There arms and legs whirled as they fought, and Sinead hoped that Dakota remembered that it was only a friendly sparring session. She almost missed Charlotte moving down her left side as the girl attempted to flank Sinead and attack from the side. But it was a feint, for as Sinead struck out at Charlotte, Dakota struck from the front, kicking Sinead hard in the chest and pushing the Royal Marine Commando backwards. Sinead was punched twice in the side by Charlotte before Dakota struck again and again.

Sinead decided that enough was enough and she came to the conclusion that the two female _Predators_ were not ' _sugar & spice & all things nice_' – not by a goddamn longshot! With practiced ease, Sinead put Charlotte down with a kick to the girl's shoulder, sending her rolling the length of the mat. Dakota took a little more work, but she was no match for Sinead as she too was deposited beside her friend. Sinead grinned down at the two girls who grinned back.

"Did we learn anything today, girls?" Sinead asked as she sat down beside them.

Charlotte looked at Dakota and both girls laughed.

"Don't mess with a Royal?" Dakota ventured.

"Damn right!" Sinead confirmed.

* * *

 ** _Also, that same morning_**

 ** _Moss-side Hall_**

Olivia was not enjoying her morning so much.

She lay on her front while Lynn applied some soothing lotion onto her badly bruised side. Jessica had considered some sort of joke as her sister lay there with just a bra to cover her upper body modesty, but the vivid bruising had stopped Jessica in her tracks. She enjoyed embarrassing her big sister, but she hated it when she was hurt. They had all had a busy night and they were still somewhat tired.

Instead, Jessica cuddled up with Nika.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Ashley House, Edinburgh_**

"So," Electra ventured over breakfast that morning. "Did you learn anything?"

Mary grimaced as Ginny chuckled. Ginny enjoyed seeing her protectee squirm. The girl had learnt humility which had been very important to the teenager. Ginny knew that the two girls were very close. Indeed, Electra had saved Mary from an inglorious death which might have ultimately collapsed the Monarchy. Electra could be very hard on Mary – especially when it came to anything that matched the younger girl's skill set. Mary took it all in her stride and Ginny was fully aware of what the teenager had endured the night before. Ginny had been there, watching, to ensure that Mary did not suffer too much – Harper had requested she be there in case anything had got out of hand. Ginny had almost stepped in to bring things to a halt when Harper had pushed Mary into the puddle outside, but she had restrained herself from interfering. Ginny had heard Mary crying during the night but she had left her to cry.

"Yes, I did," the embarrassed girl responded.

"Like what?"

"Having your pubic hair tugged - it hurts!"

Ginny laughed.

"Can't say I've ever experienced that," Electra commented with a grin.

"I can't believe that Harper did that to me – not to mention dragging me _outside_! But I know that I needed some harsh treatment to knock some sense into me."

"Damn right!" Electra growled.

"So long as you learnt something," Ginny said seriously.

"Yes, ma'am," Mary replied. "Did you see it all?"

"Yes, I saw everything."

"I was naked, so everything was quite a bit!" Mary scowled. "I will admit, the puddle was a nice touch. How Harper survived that night after night while injured, I'll never know."

"She's a brave girl," Ginny admitted. "Take what she suffered as an example, Mary."

"I will – and I'm sorry for having put myself in a situation where I needed such a reminder."

"We all make mistakes, Mary," Electra grinned. "You will make more, just as I will."

"Thanks," Mary replied.

* * *

 ** _East Mayfield_**

It was a nasty habit which Harper was determined to cure Diana of, even if it killed her.

The girl had absolutely no idea what a goddamn lie-in was! Harper was very tired from all her exertions the previous evening and she just wanted to sleep, but no, an annoying eleven-year-old was sitting at the end of Harper's bed bouncing up and down.

"You do know that I could kill you in a second," Harper growled with as much menace as she could manage.

"I know," Diana responded. "But, I also know that you would never hurt somebody like me."

"Like you? A girl with no legs."

"Somebody that isn't one of you and isn't a bad person," Diana retorted.

Harper groaned – the girl was right; she usually was!

"Fuck this!" Harper growled as she threw back the duvet and carefully swung her feet onto the floor.

With a struggle, Harper eased off her T-shirt which acted as a makeshift nighty, and she stood up a little shakily before heading off for a shower.

"I hate it when you do that," Diana complained as the naked nine-year-old hobbled out of the bedroom.

"I know!" Harper grinned as she continued on her way to the bathroom.

"Morning, Harper," Keira chuckled as she appeared out of her own bedroom.

"Hi, Kei."

"Why does she have to go naked – it's so creepy," Diana bleated. "The scars scare me as well."

"Ignore her," Keira suggested, knowing that Harper was just winding Diana up in retaliation for Diana waking her so early.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Sunday, December 18th_**

 ** _Dreadnought House, Dollar_**

Naomi's time had come.

Cameron and Natasha had come over to see the new house, along with Scarlett and Amber. After a tour of the house, Cassie had turned to Jake and Kaitlin.

"Could you both take Sasha outside and show Scarlett and Amber the garden, please?"

Kaitlin recognised the tone and she knew that it was no idle suggestion. Naomi made to follow, unaware that she was about to endure the bollocking of a lifetime.

"Naomi!" Cassie called out, her voice cold. "Living room – now!"

Naomi looked very worried as she stepped into the living room to find Cameron and Natasha looking very grave as they sat in chairs. Cassie followed Naomi into the room and she closed the door behind her before grabbing the nine-year-old by the shoulders and placing her in the centre of the room facing Natasha. Cassie then sat down on another chair.

"Are you totally stupid?" Natasha began, her expression cold and her tone even colder. "You have to have been insanely stupid to pull a stunt like that, Naomi. I always thought that you were level-headed, but this is even beyond something which Kaitlin would do! Are you trying to get yourself killed before you turn ten? Are you trying to make _Vengeance_ lose a life?"

Natasha's voice was increasing in volume and the young girl was struggling with her emotions as she took in the stinging words of rebuke.

"Did you stop to think for even _one second_ about what you were doing? You went off alone without saying a damn word – and even worse, you took on Anna Bowman on your own!"

"I killed her, didn't I?" Naomi retorted angrily.

"SHUT UP!" Natasha shouted. "Did I say that you could talk? That response just shows how stupid you really are! First, Mary fucks up – but then she's not had much training, then YOU a trained _Predator_ goes against everything that she knows. What was it? Were you in search of glory? You wanted to make a name for yourself?"

"No!"

"You could have got yourself killed! The end DOES NOT justify the means, young lady! Right now, I am unable to decide if I still want you in _Vengeance_. But I am also very glad that you are alive and unhurt. Just bruises, right?"

Naomi nodded, her eyes brimming with tears as she stood before the adults.

..._...

Outside, the raised voices could be heard, if not the actual content of what was being shouted.

"Is Naomi in trouble?" Jake asked.

"Yeah," Kaitlin replied.

"Why?"

"Sorry, I can't tell you."

"Okay."

Kaitlin knew exactly what it was about, and she was very pleased that she was not in trouble – for a change. Sometimes, no matter what the eight-year-old did, she often got herself into trouble. The youngster noticed that she was the object of somebody's attention. Scarlett was staring at her. Kaitlin did not like the girl and she grinned slightly as her eyes noticed the girl's right hand – that had been Naomi's handy work, Kaitlin thought, chuckling at the unintended pun.

As for Scarlett, she was having mixed emotions concerning her new life. The nightmares and the terror as her life was torn apart were there every night and the memories kept bouncing back during her waking hours, too. The time in the hospital had dulled things in her mind – mainly due to the drugs that they had pumped her full of, for the pain – and it had taken time for the memories of her father dying to resurface. Strangely, the only time that Scarlett had felt she could cope, since losing her hand, was when she was talking to Harper Sharp. That girl was different in so many ways, many of them unfathomable, but somehow, Scarlett had bonded with Harper on a level which had had Scarlett regretting everything that she had done to the girl. Scarlett had never enjoyed hurting people, but she had so wanted to impress her father – he had seen his daughter as a bit of a wimp. Being placed in charge of Harper and some aspects of her imprisonment had given Scarlett a feeling of power – even if it was only over a nine-year-old girl.

Her father had told her that Harper was pure evil and damaged in the head. He had insisted that keeping Harper subdued by fear was the only way to prevent any problems. Naturally, Scarlett had trusted her father, only that trust had begun to ebb the first time that she had heard Harper's desperate screams as, one by one, her fingers had been snapped. Scarlett was not stupid, she knew full well that her father was not a particularly nice man and that he could be very cruel at times. That life of his . . . that was not for Scarlett. At the time, there was nothing that she could do. She hated to contradict her father and he would not stand for it should she get uppity and try to stand her ground. The muddy puddle had been Scarlett's idea – in her mind it had been a relatively benign way to keep Harper in line. Her father had overridden things, such as feeding Harper and then torturing the girl so that she threw the food straight back up again.

Thankfully, Harper had been too traumatised by her experience to offer up anything more than token resistance. That had been good as Scarlett had not had to hurt Harper further. The attack at their property in Coventry which had resulted in the death of that Morris bitch – good riddance – had been the last time Harper had been tortured. The worst part had been stopping Harper's rescue – only, she had been too scared of her father not to follow his instructions. She had cringed as Harper had screamed out for her sister. Scarlett had considered letting Harper go and that had been her plan, but she had been too scared to let it happen. Her father had had no further use for Harper and he had come up with the idea of faking her death. Scarlett had refused to have anything to do with it, but she had been there when the unconscious girl had been taken down into the cellars.

Her father did not care if Harper lived or died, but he hinted that keeping her alive may be beneficial. Scarlett had spent hours each day down in the cellar. It solved two problems – keeping Harper company and staying away from her father who appeared to have had enough of his daughter. Fifteen days had passed before Harper was finally rescued, and Scarlett's life had fallen apart. For fifteen days, Scarlett had kept Harper alive amidst the worry that her father might throw her into the same cell and throw away the key. The girl was badly injured, but Scarlett could do nothing to help her apart from talking to Harper and giving her painkillers. It was not long – just a few days – before Harper gave up eating. Scarlett had had to force the delirious girl to drink water and ingest some watery soup. Harper was giving up on life.

The fire which Harper had once displayed was long gone and Scarlett had not thought it would be long before the girl succumbed to her wounds and died.

..._...

At that moment, back in Scotland, Scarlett was studying the younger girl.

She was about the right size: she was short, and a female. It had been a short female vigilante who had taken her hand. 'Was it her?' Scarlett asked herself as she walked over, looking directly at Kaitlin.

Kaitlin frowned as Scarlett came towards her. Kaitlin did not like the girl and she did not care that Harper had put her off limits, but she also figured that there was more to the Scarlett/Harper story than she actually knew. Harper had not gone into much, of any, detail about what had occurred behind closed doors.

"I know you don't like me, err Kaitlin."

"I don't dislike you – I just don't like you, and neither am I going to shove you into a muddy puddle while naked," Kaitlin responded, hoping to get the message across.

Scarlett's face went scarlet at the comment and the older girl winced. Jake frowned at the exchange, unsure what to make of it. He knew what a _Predator_ suppressing anger looked like when he saw one. He filed it away until later as he figured that it might be something private. Kaitlin was annoyed with herself for the comment which had told Scarlett much more than Scarlett was actually cleared for, but Scarlett would not have been there if nobody trusted her, Kaitlin figured. The young girl noticed that Amber was splitting her attentions between the unintelligible yells coming from inside the house and her own conversation with Scarlett. Kaitlin did not trust Amber for reasons that she could not quite fathom, but then, Kaitlin was not trusting many people right at that moment.

Jake was highly intelligent and despite often playing the idiot, he was far from actually being one. Every day, he was watching everything that was going on and filing away everything he heard. His mind was profiling each person and filing the details away. Kaitlin was a friend and he trusted her. Scarlett was an unknown, but she appeared to know more than she was letting on. As for Amber, she was setting off alarms in Jake's head and they were backed up by her actions as she tried to listen in on everything which was going on around her. Jake watched as Kaitlin manoeuvred Scarlett well away from Amber and so he called Amber over and they began to play with Sasha.

The boy noticed Kaitlin's grin in his direction confirming that he had done the right thing.

..._...

"Scarlett," Kaitlin began. "You have a lot of shit buried away in your head. You need to talk to someone before you explode – or destroy a police BMW."

"Destroy what?" Scarlett asked.

"Never mind," Kaitlin responded quickly. "Take it from me – you can't bury emotions that are too big to be buried. I know a lot went on between you and Harper. The fact that you are still alive tells me that you did some good. Okay, I hate your fucking guts – I saw you shoving Harper into a muddy puddle while stark naked. I saw you kick mud in her face, then hose her down with a hosepipe. I assume the water wasn't hot?"

"It wasn't."

"One day, I might return the favour . . . but until then, I will be your friend."

Scarlett shuddered slightly at the hinted retaliation.

"Can you set it up, so I can talk to Harper – maybe even that nutcase, Diana."

Kaitlin laughed – it was an apt description for Diana.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Do you trust Amber?" Scarlett asked.

"Should I?" Kaitlin asked leadingly. "You live with her."

"I've seen her before . . . I just don't know where."

"I trust her less than I trust you – do you see her as a threat of some kind?"

"You know who my father was, right?"

"Yes."

"I think I might have seen her on one of my Dad's visits to London – he'd take me along for company when visiting William Fraser."

Kaitlin winced at the name.

"Get some of that dark shit out of you brain and then you might just start to remember more stuff," Kaitlin suggested. "Useful stuff."

..._...

"You're a _Predator_ , right?" Scarlett asked after taking a deep breath.

"What makes you think that?" Kaitlin responded.

"Promise you won't kill me?"

Kaitlin nodded as very gently, Scarlett reached over and moved Kaitlin's hair away from behind her right ear.

"The tattoo – Harper had one, and I saw yours just a few moment's ago."

"Feel free to rant – most people do," Kaitlin said resignedly.

"When I first found out that there were children out there who had been turned into assassins, I was sceptical. I was told that _Predators_ were scum. That they were warped children who had been taught to kill and maim. That they ought to be put down for their own sakes and every other person's sake. I pitied them for what they were forced to become, but I could see no valid reason why they should be allowed to integrate into normal society. Then I met Harper Sharp and everything changed."

"Do you even know what a _Predator_ really is?" a voice growled ominously and both girls turned to find Jake standing two feet away.

"Stealthy, huh?" Kaitlin commented approvingly. "Where's creepy cunt?"

"You mean, Amber?" Jake asked with a grin. "She went inside to go wee – Naomi's whatever has finished."

"Just what I've figured out. I know that what my father told me was wrong – or maybe just his take on it. I saw the truth with my own eyes. Harper Sharp was just a young girl forced into a horrible life and trying to make the best of it. She never volunteered to be taken and tortured, and I'm certain that she never volunteered for the life she has. Same for you, Kaitlin – you, too, Jake?"

"I was eight-years-old when I was yanked off the street, along with my parents. I was treated like an animal – yelled at and slapped when I was too slow, or I cried – and humiliated worse than I had ever thought possible. I was brainwashed into killing my parents – I put a bullet into each of their heads. I was trained to kill. I was trained to use a hundred different weapons. I was trained to bury my emotions. I had no choice but to obey or I would be put out of my misery by a nine-millimetre bullet in the head. I may be something dark inside, but I am still a boy who wants a childhood. I want to be able to have fun. I want to be a normal child. I don't want to kill or do anything I was trained to do, but it's a struggle to ignore the training that was so deeply ingrained in who I am. Over more than four years I was turned into an assassin. Even now, wherever I go, I look for exits, I look for threats, I look for potential weapons. In my mind, Scarlett, I have already considered a dozen different ways to end your life and four different ways to hide your body so that it would never be found. I can't stop my brain from working out these problems and solutions all on its own. Am I right, Kaitlin?"

Kaitlin nodded. Her training was nowhere near as advanced as Jake's, but her brain worked in a similar manner; it had been hammered into her during her Phase 1 basic training.

"I need to make sense of my life . . . the way it is now. I need to know that I did the right thing in keeping Harper alive. I need to figure out what I am going to do next."

..._...

The yelling had ceased, leaving Naomi quietly sobbing to herself.

Cassie had led the girl out of the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Do you understand what happened today?" Cassie asked.

"Yes, Cassie, I did. I was stupid."

"You did well and yes, you killed Anna Bowman. However, killing her may not have been quite what we wanted, right now. Her brother is going to be a tad angry that you killed his sister, and that makes him unpredictable, honey."

"I'm sorry – I got caught up in the moment."

"We all make mistakes, sweetheart."

"I know – normally, it's Kaitlin."

"Tell me about it!"

"Do you love me any less?"

"Honey, there is nothing on this earth that could make me love you, or Kaitlin, any less."

"Thanks."

Cassie left the girl to her emotions and her thoughts.


	60. Learning to Trust

**_Monday, December 19_** ** _th_** ** _, 2016_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

For Charlotte, there was a rude surprise awaiting her when she arrived home.

"You've moved out!" she exclaimed. "You're taking _him_ and leaving _me_?" she demanded, indicating Jake. "But, I was here first!"

Cassie could see the hurt expression, but Charlotte was only getting warmed up.

"Were you not even going to say goodbye? When I found Jake gone, I feared the worst and . . . fuck!"

"That'll be a pound for swearing and another pound because you are almost thirteen and should know better," Alexandra commented.

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Charlotte growled with little sincerity in her tone. "I just thought that. . ."

"You're staying here at Blairhoyle, Charlotte," Cassie said. "This has all been thought through and well, as Kaitlin pointed out so eloquently, Jake has a dick."

"You wanted a boy?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I can see why," Charlotte reasoned. "Will I still see you all?"

"Of course, honey," Cassie replied. "You are welcome to come over, anytime. We even have a spare bedroom."

"Thanks."

"Did you have a fun weekend, Charlotte?" Richard asked having kept well out of the argument.

"Yes, sir – it was exhausting, but it got the point across."

"Glad to hear it."

* * *

 ** _East Mayfield_**

Harper and Diana were sitting in the living room reading.

Keira had insisted that as neither would be ready to start school before January, that they should both read for at least two hours every day. Keira would also set them both tasks and tests to keep them occupied and their minds functioning. Harper was generally okay with learning – she enjoyed it – but there were some days that she just wanted to rest and being forced to stick her nose in a book chosen by her big sister was not always appealing. As for Diana, she was a swot – the girl _loved_ to read and do logic puzzles. Harper grudgingly admitted that while Diana had to be the most annoying human being on the planet, she was very clever, and her brain worked just as fast as Harper's. Diana could do mental arithmetic in her head much quicker than Harper could which irked the younger girl to a point. Harper actually found herself asking Diana for help with some of her tasks which Keira had provided – mainly maths and spelling.

Keira was pleased to see the two girls getting on so well. Both had very different backgrounds but had somehow come together in the hospital and, although Harper would _never_ admit it publicly, they both needed one another. After a chat with Cassie on the phone, earlier, Keira realised that Harper was needed by someone else and, therefore, a plan had been hatched for that very evening. But before that. . .

There came a knock on the door and Keira grinned happily.

"Anybody going to answer the door?" she asked.

"No, we're fine," Harper commented, barely raising her eyes from the book she was reading.

There was no response from Diana who was hidden behind a large book of Sudoku puzzles. Keira chuckled as she got out of her chair – she knew who was at the door, and while she was excited, the girls knew nothing. Several minutes later, Keira returned to the living room with the visitor. Both girls looked up, then back down at their books before doing a classic doubletake.

"Blake!" both girls exclaimed, and the poor man almost jumped out of his skin.

"I think they're happy to see you," Keira deadpanned as the man was mobbed by the two girls.

* * *

 ** _Lasswade Road_**

Harper and Diana were not the only ones to be welcoming somebody home.

Jeremy Lai and Ewan Campbell were just walking back from the bus stop and chatting happily when Jeremy paused – his Dad was back as evidenced by the car on the drive. His Dad had left very early that morning before he and Ewan had left for school, but he had not explained where he was going, despite Jeremy's demands for information. As he entered the house, Jeremy froze, causing Ewan to walk into the back of him. The twelve-year-old sniffed the air – jasmine. He had not smelt the scent in five months – not since his mother had been hospitalised. Then the boy tentatively stepped into the living room, followed by Ewan.

Ewan was very surprised to see Jeremy drop his school bag and then burst into tears without any warning as a female voice, which Ewan did not recognise, called out.

"Hello, Jeremy. How's my boy?"

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre  
Ashley House, Edinburgh_**

"What's going on?" Diana asked as they drove down back country roads in the darkness.

"I could ask the same," Blake commented.

"Just a little surprise," Keira commented.

"I'm saying nothing," Harper added, struggling to hide her grin.

Keira pulled turned down a long driveway and she eventually pulled up outside what looked like a large manor house. There were several vehicles already parked outside. Harper and Keira led Diana and Blake up the stone steps to the main door which was opened from the inside. Natasha smiled happily as she waved the four of them inside.

"Hi, Natasha," Keira said with a grin.

"Hello, guys," Natasha replied. "Please take a seat in the Orangery ready for our briefing."

The four of them, plus Natasha, passed through the drawing room and stepped into the large glazed area known as the Orangery. One person was already seated.

"Scarlett is a little concerned as I won't tell her what is going on," Natasha commented.

"Hello, Scarlett," Harper said a little stiffly as she took a seat in a chair opposite Scarlett.

"Hello, Harper – you're looking good," Scarlett said.

"Hi, Scarlett," Diana said as she sat down next to the older girl as indicated by Keira.

Keira sat down beside her sister as Natasha closed the door. She opened up a recessed panel in the wall and she pressed a few buttons. Diana watched wide-eyed as every pane of glass turned opaque. Natasha then came to sit down, beside Keira. Blake sat next to Scarlett.

"Welcome to Ashley House," Natasha began. "You three are about to be let in on one of our nation's most closely guarded secrets. Blake, Scarlett, Diana: welcome to the _Vengeance_ Command Centre.

All three were silent as they listened.

"Scarlett is already aware of who and what Harper is, as is Blake. Diana figured things out, but not everything. Tonight, all will be explained to the three of you. Commander, you are already very much aware of the security implications involved, yes?" Blake nodded. "Scarlett, I understand that you had an up close and personal meeting with Stephanie Walker, as well as with Harper." Scarlett cringed but she nodded. "Diana, you have also received a mini-lecture from Harper, yes."

"Yes, ma'am."

"It is imperative that operational security is maintained, do you all understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Any questions?"

"Are we to become vigilantes?" Diana asked excitedly.

"That is purely voluntary, Diana," Keira replied. "However, it is important that you both know how to protect yourselves considering that you will be spending time with those that are vigilantes. As you know, _Vengeance_ has just survived betrayal and outright attack – Harper is an example of that." Scarlett slid down in her chair. "We are under constant scrutiny and we could have to protect ourselves at any moment. Diana, Scarlett – you will both be assessed to see what you can do and where we think that you might be able to benefit _Vengeance_. That will take a lot of work and it is a two-way street, so if either one of you does not want this, then say so."

"Thanks," Diana replied.

"Okay – time to show you guys around the place."

..._...

Natasha led the way as they passed back through the drawing room and then through the reception hall.

"Dining room on the left. Kitchen straight ahead, up those steps. That door on the right leads to the office that me and my brother share."

Natasha then punched an eight-digit code into a keypad set into the wall beside a stout-looking wooden door. With a dull buzz, the door was released. Natasha directed the three visitors inside and pointed them down a staircase which was floodlit with LED illumination. At the bottom of the staircase, Keira stopped the group as Natasha followed behind.

"We have various spaces, down here, including an armoury, some equipment storage, and . . . our control room."

Keira looked over at Diana and laughed.

"Do you need to wee, Diana, or are you just over-excited?" Keira asked.

"Oh, God!" Scarlett breathed as she folded her arms irritably.

"Excited!" Diana exclaimed excitedly.

From the base of the staircase, Natasha turned right and walked towards a very stout door lined with steel. Beside the door, embedded in the wall, there was a keypad. Another eight digits later, and the door clicked before opening inwards automatically.

"Welcome," Natasha said with a flourish, "to the _Vengeance_ Control Room!"

..._...

Diana's eyes were almost popping out of the youngster's head.

She took in the giant flat screens on the wall, the command consoles with additional screens embedded in them. Diana pushed past Natasha and she gazed at all the displays, buttons, and readouts. Her right hand reached out towards one of the screens on the master command console, but she froze as a voice called out to her.

"Don't touch that, Aegea!"

Eric strode out of an adjacent room and he put himself between Diana and his master command console.

"What did you call me?" Diana asked curiously.

"Your codename, Diana: Aegea was the queen on the Amazons, in Greek Mythology," Eric explained. "I'm Eric, by the way, and I run all the technical equipment for _Vengeance_."

Scarlett made a derogatory noise.

"If she is 'Aegea' – do I have a silly name, too."

"Scarlett!" Natasha growled. "If you do not want to be involved, then you can leave, right now."

Scarlett realised that she was about to be booted out, and that was _not_ what she wanted. She needed what _Vengeance_ could offer, to help her put her past behind her.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean that."

"Okay," Natasha replied. "For you, we have selected Pyrrha."

"What does that mean?" Scarlett asked.

"It means: 'the colour of fire'," Natasha replied.

"Okay," Scarlett replied.

"Cool!" Diana added.

..._...

After the tour, the two girls were led back up the stairs and then up to the kitchen, where the two girls found several other girls waiting for them.

"Girls, this is Scarlett Radford, and this is Diana Price. Some of you may know one or either of them," Keira said in introduction. "Scarlett, Diana – please meet: Naomi Perrin, Kaitlin Perrin, Harper Sharp, Olivia Kensington, Jessica, Kensington, and Electra Haig. You eight girls are going to enjoy a sleepover. I know that there will be animosity between some of you, but I am hoping that you can all find some common ground. Harper is in charge. Scarlett, Diana – you will use tonight to ask questions and decide if you really want to be a part of _Vengeance_. Nobody will think less of either one of you should you decide you want no part of it."

"Okay," Natasha said. "I want you each to go upstairs and get into your pyjamas, please, then I will bring up some pizza."

..._...

Scarlett and Diana looked a little worried – Scarlett could think of a half-dozen reasons off the top of her head why she might not survive the night, and Diana could see Harper smirking, which was _not_ an encouraging sign.

It took a good forty minutes for all eight girls to change into their pyjamas and settle down in one of the larger bedrooms from which all the beds had been removed and half a dozen mattresses had been laid out on the floor with a large pile of duvets and pillows. Diana noticed a distinct arrangement of where people were sitting when she entered the bedroom after having got changed in the bathroom. Scarlett was seated on a mattress over to the left side of the bedroom. She was facing five angry-looking girls gathered over to the right side of the room. Diana made a point of going to sit beside Scarlett which just gained Diana the same angry looks. Then Harper entered the room – ouch!

Diana had seen Harper showing mock anger, and even some annoyance at times, but damn if the nine-year-old did not go nuclear.

..._...

Harper glared at the five girls gathered together in a group and she flexed her one good hand.

Harper made for Naomi who was glaring at Scarlett – Harper slapped her across the face and then she hauled the girl to her feet . . . apparently, Harper was getting her strength back, the girls thought. Kaitlin was next, followed by Electra, but Olivia and Jessica wisely jumped to their feet and they swiftly went to sit with Diana and Scarlett. Harper faced the three _Predators_ and her eyes dared anybody to move.

"Look," Scarlett began as she stood up. "I'll go. . ."

"Fucking sit down, Scarlett!" Harper bellowed before turning back to her friends. "You three can remain standing."

Naomi, Kaitlin, and Electra were not backing down, and they stood their ground, glaring back at Harper . . . but they did remain standing.

"So, you three aren't happy with Scarlett Radford being in the same room as you perfect bitches. Okay, Scarlett made my life a living hell – but as I recall, so did somebody else: Naomi! You took immense joy in causing me pain. You took immense joy in making my life miserable as hell. Admittedly, I often did the same in return, but that was life for us, right?"

Naomi mumbled something as she looked down at the floor.

"What is it that you three bitches want of me?" Harper demanded. "Do you want me to strip the bitch and humiliate her, just like she did me? Is that it? Well, I won't! You know nothing about what went on between me and her. You are just basing this crap on your own flawed intuition. As I have already said, I do _not_ need any of you fuckers to protect me. Just think yourselves damn lucky that I still can't kick you, or punch you with my left hand, or I would make each one of you really suffer. As for you, Electra," Harper prodded the girl hard in the chest, "I understand that the person who gave you your scars is a good friend of yours, and Stephanie's too, despite that girl trying to kill you both – and almost succeeding with you, if it weren't for a very convenient roll of fucking duct tape! Naomi – I honestly thought better of you, but I obviously misjudged you. Kaitlin's just a baby, so she knows fucking nothing."

"Hey!" Kaitlin exclaimed.

"Shut the fuck up before I slap you stupid, Kaitlin!" Harper declared. "What none of you know – what none of you could ever know – is that without one person, I would be dead right now. Soon after the failed rescue – I don't want fucking apologies, so shut the fuck up – I found myself thrown into a cellar which was to be my prison for a further fifteen days. After a day or two, I began to give up on life, losing the will to live. I gave up drinking. I gave up eating. Only, there was one person who insisted on forcing water down me and feeding me soup. That person cleaned up my piss, and she cleaned up my shit. She talked to me continuously. That voice was the only thing that kept me going. I resented that person, bitterly – I really did – but some part of me clung to life. I had no energy left to fight her off as she forced me to eat and drink. She did her best to clean me and keep me safe. I owe her everything, as without her, I would never have seen my sister or my friends again. Without Scarlett Radford, I would be dead."

Scarlett felt all eyes turn on her and she cringed at the decidedly unwanted attention.

"Scarlett is not so very much different from us, guys. I know you won't believe it, but she was forced to do things against her will, just as we were. It was her father who tortured me. It was her father who forced her to hurt me. We have all forgiven one another for some pretty heinous acts – why the fuck should Scarlett be any different? Scarlett, stand up, please . . . and remove your . . . err hand."

Scarlett did so, making a couple of sharp movements with her left hand and she deftly removed her prosthetic limb. There were gasps from the everyone other than Harper and Diana who had both seen it before. Scarlett held up her stump.

"Scarlett has a life-long reminder of what she and her father did. She is being punished for what her father started . . . he is dead – he abandoned his daughter who now has to live out her life with a constant reminder of him and his traitorous activities. Thank you, Scarlett – I really mean that."

Scarlett nodded as she stepped back, and she reattached her prosthetic hand.

..._...

Harper took a moment to gather her thoughts as she faced down the three girls who were cringing slightly – none of them had enjoyed the sight of Scarlett's stump.

"I am going to say this just once – SO FUCKING LISTEN! Scarlett is under _my_ protection – anybody lays a finger on her, they answer to me – UNDERSTAND? Maybe, when I have healed, I might kick the living daylights out of her, but by then, I hope that she will be able to fight back. Now, Scarlett, this is Kaitlin Perrin."

Kaitlin looked a little concerned as she stood face to face with Scarlett again. It was not like at the house at the weekend – that was different.

"Kaitlin is also known as Glide – she is the vigilante that you fought. I was able to watch the CCTV recorded in Wales and I know that you did not want to fight. But they all believed me dead – thanks to your father's fake video – and they wanted revenge. I watched Glide as she goaded you and she kicked you over the bannister and down the stairs."

"That hurt," Scarlett admitted with a grimace as her mind drifted back to the end of October that year.

...+...

She had been distracted by her father's betrayal as he had run to save his own hide, abandoning her to the vengeful vigilantes.

Scarlett had totally lost awareness of the situation around her and the fight with Glide. She had not seen the short vigilante approach her, seemingly finished with her torture. Scarlett had only seen the cutlass glinting as it had swept horizontally towards her right wrist – it had moved in slow motion and seemed to take forever to bite into her exposed wrist. Then had come the explosion of pain, worse than any pain which she had ever felt in her entire thirteen years of life. Her nervous system almost collapsed as her body went into shock at the violent assault on her limb. She could still see her hand, the fingers tightly gripping the hilt of the cutlass, as it had fallen to the ground. She had sunk the ground, first to her knees, and then onto her bottom as her body shook violently and she struggled to comprehend the blood pumping steadily from her shattered wrist and the severed limb lying just a foot away from her. Then had come the explosion of noise as she heard screaming – her own screaming as the terror and pain had truly taken hold. Then a hand had grasped her by the mouth, stopping her screaming. She had heard the electronically enhanced voice of her vigilante adversary as she had growled into her ear.

"I am not going to kill you – that would be too good for you, bitch. Every time you look at where your hand was, each time you go to wipe your fucking twat, you will remember Harper."

Scarlett had tried to respond but sound and sight had begun to fade as her vision went tunnel-like and she had felt strong hands easing her to the ground. She had woken again to find herself being shaken around – her tortured mind told her she was in a helicopter just moments before she had lost consciousness. Again, she had awoken. The ceiling above her was grey-painted steel and brightly lit. She had no idea where she was . . . or why. She felt no pain. She felt nothing. Then she drifted off into nothing. Several times she had awoken from drug-induced sleep before slipping back into a dark realm where she found only her darkest fears. The nightmares had been, and still were, so lifelike and so filled with horrible things.

Scarlett snapped back to reality as Harper nudged her.

...+...

"It was Glide who took your hand, Scarlett."

Kaitlin noticed Scarlett's titanium and carbon-fibre hand flex into a ball and reopen as Scarlett's face went very dark with anger. Kaitlin expected to be struck by the hand and she winced as she turned her head to her right, and away from the hand. A hand did strike her face, only it was on her right cheek and it was from Scarlett's real left hand. The smack of flesh against flesh had cut through the air like a knife and there were several audible gasps. Kaitlin's hands went to her right cheek, holding it tightly as tears filled her eyes. Nobody spoke until the door to the bedroom opened and Keira entered.

"We having fun, are we?" she asked.

..._...

Keira could see straight away that there was trouble – actually, she had heard her sister's dulcet tones all the way down the stairs in the kitchen!

"What have I told you about using your indoors voice, Harper," Keira chuckled as she ruffled her sister's hair – something Keira knew that Harper hated.

"Keira!" Harper growled as Diana giggled.

"You look so sweet when you're angry," Keira said in a tone like you might use with a very young child.

Harper's cheeks were turning very pink as her big sister embarrassed her. Then as Harper focussed on her sister, and away from her friends, she realised how weak she was feeling, and she mentally thanked her sister for butting in as she sat down heavily beside Diana who looked a little worried. Keira turned to look at the three miscreant _Predators_.

"Wow!" Keira chuckled. "Talk about three sorry bitches!"

The three girls in question looked embarrassed as Keira looked them over. Keira seized hold of Kaitlin's jaw and gently moved the eight-year-old's head from side to side.

"That'll look good in the morning!" Keira exclaimed. "Who was it?"

Scarlett raised her hand, somewhat timidly.

"Good one, Scarlett! You have a nice left hook there."

Scarlett blushed scarlet.

"What!" Kaitlin exclaimed loudly. "Is that all you've got to say?"

"Kaitlin, dear, you took her hand and in response, she simply slapped you – hard, I will admit – so I think you've got off rather lightly, don't you think?"

Kaitlin groaned as she sat down on a mattress, dragging Scarlett down with her. Keira then turned to the remaining pair of girls and she examined their slapped left cheeks.

"Were these you, Harper? Pussy slaps if you ask me."

"I just wanted to get my point across and I didn't want to hurt them," Harper admitted as she leaned into Diana who put an arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

"Okay," a new voice said as Natasha entered the room with an impressive pile of pizza boxes. "Now that Harper has that out of her system, you can all eat."

There was general laughter as everybody standing sat down and began to pull open the pizza boxes as Natasha passed them out. Keira vanished for a few minutes before returning with cans of Coke and two large rolls of paper towel.

"Oh yes," Keira commented. "Cassie wanted me to pass on a message, or two. Please remind Kaitlin to eat like a human being and not like a deranged animal."

There was laughter from everybody present – except for Kaitlin who simply scowled.

"And please tell remind Naomi to wash her hands after they've been down her knickers," Keira finished.

Naomi's eyes went wide as everybody laughed again.

"It was just the one time – I had an itch!" the nine-year-old mumbled.

The ice was well and truly broken as all eight girls began chatting and stuffing their faces with pizza. How they managed to talk and eat at the same time seemed impossible, but they managed it.

"Scarlett, can we see your hand again?" Kaitlin asked bravely.

Scarlett rolled her eyes as she raised up her right hand and moved the articulated fingers around.

"Awesome!" Electra exclaimed as she moved closer to examine the limb.

"You gotta see Diana's legs – they are almost as awesome," Harper pointed out.

Diana grimaced as she pulled up the legs of her pyjamas.

Apart from Harper, who was very familiar with the legs, everybody was astounded by them. Diana suddenly found herself the centre of attention as her legs were checked out in detail by the girls, slices of pizza completely forgotten about. Harper grinned as both Diana and Scarlett were mobbed – all the nastiness of just forty minutes before was long gone. Even Scarlett's animosity for Kaitlin was gone as the two girls giggled together.

Keira was right, Kaitlin would have a damn nice bruise come the morning.

..._...

Keira and Natasha were downstairs in the kitchen.

Eric was spending the night as he had computer updates to sort out down in his data core.

"I'll see you two girls in the morning," Eric said as he headed outside and towards the garden.

"Night, Eric!" the girls called out.

The friends had been concerned that there might be friction between the _Predators_ and the non- _Predators_. They had not been wrong, but Keira was very proud of Harper for taking charge and not being afraid to put her friends in their place. It had been a calculated risk, but it had been a successful one. Considering that it was approaching eleven o'clock, Keira headed up the stairs to make sure that the girls were thinking about sleep. She was a little concerned by the relative quiet compared to Harper's bellowing of a few hours earlier. Keira pushed open the bedroom door and she grinned at the sight. Harper was fast asleep beside Diana who was also fast asleep, her legs standing neatly beside the door. Kaitlin lay with Naomi and Electra while Jessica lay on her own near to her big sister who was still awake, as was Scarlett. The two thirteen-year-old girls were talking quietly and giggling together.

"You two, okay?" Keira asked.

"Yes, thanks," Olivia replied.

"Yes, thank you," Scarlett added with a grin.

"Get some sleep, please, girls. Sleep tight."

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Tuesday, December 20_** ** _th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Alexandra snapped awake to the sound of screaming.

She ran towards the sound, knowing that it could only be Charlotte. As she pushed open the bedroom door, she grimaced. It was a familiar sight for the mother of two grown-up girls. Charlotte was sitting up in her bed, the duvet thrown back and the girl was crying her heart out. The reason for the crying and screaming was a spreading patch of red on the pink bottom sheet and the same stain on her pink pyjama bottoms. Alexandra knew that it was the youngster's first period and no worse than the two firsts she herself had endured as Sarah and Cassie had grown up. Alexandra sat down beside the traumatised twelve-year-old and she put an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm being stupid," Charlotte said. "I know what it is – I think."

"The first of many, many more, Charlotte."

"It was just scary . . . and painful."

"Come on, sweetie; shower for you."

Alexandra helped Charlotte off the bed and she led the girl through to the bathroom where Alexandra turned on the shower while Charlotte gingerly pulled off her blood-sodden pyjamas. Alexandra left the girl to her shower, but after a brief trip to her own bedroom, she quickly changed Charlotte's equally blood-sodden bedding before sitting down to wait for the youngster.

Charlotte reappeared after twenty minutes, looking miserable.

"Get yourself dried off, sweetie, and get dressed. You'll need one of these."

Alexandra placed a small, plastic-wrapped object onto the bed. Charlotte's face went bright red as she figured out what it was.

"Don't be embarrassed, sweetie; you are not the first young girl in this house to endure her first period. You'll be fine, and I'll help you along, every step of the way."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Come downstairs and I'll make you some breakfast."

Charlotte smiled as Alexandra left her in peace. It had been something she had dreaded. She had seen other girls go through it, and it had looked horrible. She knew that it was all a part of her growing into a woman, but it was still horrible. She quickly dried off and dressed, inserting the pad into her knickers which felt a little strange, at first.

The girl took a deep breath and she headed downstairs to the kitchen.

..._...

Breakfast was waiting for her – a full cooked breakfast.

Richard peered over at the girl as she entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, Charlotte."

"Good morning, Captain."

"I heard you had a bloody night."

Charlotte's mouth dropped open and her face got very hot.

"Have no fear, Charlotte, I've seen it all before. I hope your first isn't as bad as Cassie's – what a bloody week that was!"

"Ignore him, Charlotte – he's just a bigoted old man!" Alexandra chuckled.

Charlotte smiled as she sat down to eat her breakfast – she loved Alexandra's cooking.

"Thank you . . . for looking after me," Charlotte offered meekly.

"It's not a problem, Charlotte," Richard said truthfully.

"Definitely not," Alexandra agreed.

* * *

 ** _Back at the Vengeance Command Centre_**

"Does she have to do that?"

Olivia looked across the room to where Scarlett was looking, and she grinned. Kaitlin was completely naked and searching for her clothing after having taken a shower and then returned minus pyjamas or even a towel. Scarlett was even more put out as the door opened and an equally naked Naomi appeared.

"They're both naked!" Scarlett complained.

"So, what – they're girls," Olivia replied as she pulled off her own pyjamas and she shrugged at Scarlett despite standing there just as naked as the younger girls.

Scarlett scowled as Olivia headed off for the bathroom. However, Scarlett's shock was not fully over as Diana suddenly yelled out.

"What the hell!?"

Scarlett turned to see yet another naked girl, only the girl had scars all over her body. Scarlett's jaw dropped as she followed the scars.

"What happened to you?" Scarlett demanded as Electra groaned.

"Electra is an example of what happens when things go wrong, and you find yourself outclassed," Harper commented as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with her right hand. "Scarlett, Diana – go check out Electra while she's got nothing on."

"I hate this!" Electra growled as Scarlett hesitated. "Look, Scarlett, I am not standing here in my birthday suit all day for you two to study my body."

Scarlett grinned with embarrassment as Harper nudged her closer to the naked girl. Diana followed, cringing as her eyes followed the vicious-looking scars which spread across the naked girl's body.

"I was what they called a _Yellow_ – a worthless piece of meat. They threw me into a contest as a wildcard to make life harder for another girl – a _Predator_. I was out of my depth and the other girl had to defend me as well as herself. I got slashed and stabbed – then I was patched up with duct tape."

"Duct tape?" Scarlett queried.

"Without it, I would be dead – sometimes you have to make do with what you have."

"What's that?" Diana asked, her finger touching a more-recent-looking scar on Electra's left side.

"I was struck by two bullets, about two months ago," Electra explained.

"Electra put herself between those bullets and somebody important," Kaitlin explained.

Scarlett and Diana had both gone very pale.

"Thank you, Electra – you can put some clothes on now," Harper said before turning back to the pale girls. "Electra doesn't like people examining her scars, but I think it was important for you to see that not everything goes according to plan as a vigilante and that people do get hurt."

"Thanks, I think," Scarlett mumbled, and Diana nodded.

* * *

 ** _Lasswade Road_**

Jeremy had awoken thinking it had all been a dream.

It had been so vivid. He had come home from school to find his mother waiting for him – but that was impossible, his mother – Kensi Lai – was in a hospital enduring treatment for some depressingly-common life-sucking cancer. He had not been to visit her in months – the last visit had been so painful for the boy that his father had refused to take his son back for another visit. Jeremy missed his mother like nothing else, as his father missed his wife of almost twenty years. Jeremy and his father had supported each other through the trauma, but then Jeremy had been distracted by his descent into _Vengeance_ and their time on the run, battling their way around the United Kingdom.

The boy had been mesmerised by her voice which was instantly recognisable as the voice which had been there since the very day he was born into the world and which had been there whenever he had needed comfort or help as he had grown up. Then she had been there, sitting on the sofa, the scent of jasmine in the air. Then she had spoken to him.

"Hello, Jeremy. How's my boy?"

He had already burst into tears and they just kept falling as the boy walked up to the woman who was seated on the sofa.

"Mummy."

He had collapsed onto the sofa beside his mother and they had hugged for what had seemed like hours.

..._...

Jeremy had got out of bed that morning, as usual, made use of the bathroom, and then dressed, before he had headed downstairs to the kitchen.

"Morning, sweetheart."

Jeremy's jaw dropped, and he felt himself tearing up again. It had been no dream – his mother was right there.

"I woke up thinking that it was all a dream," the boy admitted forlornly.

"I'm here, Jeremy. As I mentioned last night, I am fragile, but I am good for a while longer. I am so pleased to see you growing up and your father has told me all about what you've been getting up to – Harrier, indeed!"

Jeremy grinned sheepishly.

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

After breakfast, while Kaitlin, Naomi, and Electra demonstrated to Scarlett and Diana how depraved a _Predator_ could really be, Harper went to lie down.

Her excuse was that Kaitlin's snoring had kept her awake – however, Blake insisted on checking her over. Keira was also aware that something was very wrong.

"Harper, you little bitch, if you fucking die on me, I will fucking kill you!" Keira growled at her sister.

"Kind of redundant, Keira . . . and not really helping," Blake pointed out as he moved the stethoscope around Harper's chest. "You, young lady, have been pushing yourself. I know you think that you have to be this hard girl who can take a beating but then continue like nothing has happened – but you don't . . . and to be brutally honest, you can't. Your body is young – that is the only reason that you have been able to survive your ordeal. Your body was able to tolerate the abuse because it was still growing, and your skin is still very flexible, and it heals quickly. However, the past few days have been emotional for you and while you had no choice but to go to town on Mary and the girls, last night, you have overexerted yourself."

Harper nodded.

"It's not easy – I want to be able to run around and be a dickhead, like my friends, and sometimes I forget that I've still got a lot of healing ahead of me. I was stupid. I'm sorry Keira and I'm sorry Blake for putting you out."

"Just promise me that you'll try to take care and rest when you can, okay?" Keira asked and the look of care and love on Keira's face almost had Harper in tears.

Harper hated crying and she figured that she was beyond that, but she had been doing it a lot lately without even knowing why.

"We're here to help you, Harper," Blake reminded the girl who would be ten-years-old in three months' time. "If you want to make double-figures, young lady, you had better take care of yourself."

Blake finished his check up and Harper went off to dress.

..._..

Keira and Blake were talking when Harper re-joined them.

Harper had a distinct feeling that the conversation involved her. Indeed, as she approached, the two adults both turned to her and they grinned – that was _not_ a good sign!

"I didn't do it and I wasn't within a hundred miles of whatever happened," Harper offered defensively.

"She always feels guilt," Keira chuckled. "That girl is devious as hell – and guilty as hell, too!"

"Harper – do you fancy a bite of lunch, just the two of us?" Blake asked the nine-year-old.

Harper responded instantly.

"Yes, please."

* * *

 ** _Heading west_**

Blake headed away from Edinburgh, west along the M8. Harper sat beside him in his Jaguar XF.

"So, how are your fingers, Harper?" he asked conversationally.

Harper winced at the mention of the fingers on her left hand. The splints had been recently removed, only the previous day, and apart from some small plasters on the fingertips, the fingers were reasonably healed. Only, they hurt. They were frozen in the position in which they had been splinted. Harper had tried to move them, but the pain had been far too much and she had refused. Blake had not forced it, allowing Harper to move her fingers in her own time.

"Painful."

Blake could see the look on Harper's face as she looked down at her left hand which rested carefully on her left thigh.

"You need to start moving them, Harper," Blake said sternly.

"But they hurt."

"That's because they haven't moved in something like two months. You need to start flexing them, exercising the joints. If you don't, you may as well speak to Kaitlin and see if she can chop your hand off and we'll get you a prosthetic like Scarlett's."

Harper felt tears on her cheeks and she felt embarrassed. She hated anybody talking down to her. She hated anybody raising their voice towards her. She hated anybody telling her what to do. But she knew that everybody who was angry with her, was angry because they loved her and cared for her. She tolerated Blake for some reason, and she realised that he really did care for her. Neither spoke much as they drive for another twenty minutes before Blake pulled into a McDonalds on the outskirts of Falkirk.

Once they were inside, Blake stood before the electronic touch-screen display.

"What do you fancy, Harper?"

"Quarter Pounder with Cheese . . . large fries . . . and a large Irn-Bru. Can I have a McFlurry, please?"

"Yes," Blake chuckled as he entered the order into the touch-screen display. "Flavour?"

"Dairy Milk."

Blake doubled the order and paid, selecting table service and they went to sit down at a table beside the window overlooking the carpark.

* * *

 ** _McDonald's, Falkirk_**

"You want to talk about my sister, right?"

Blake grinned over at the youngster sitting across from him and he nodded.

"Do you love her?"

"Yes, I do."

They both paused as their order arrived at their table. Harper unwrapped her paper-covered plastic straw and she rammed it through the plastic lid of her drink before taking a long pull of the cold orange liquid.

"You want to marry her?"

"Yes, that would be something I would like. But, I want to know that you are happy with that, first."

"You obviously care about my sister and for some reason she loves having you around – she goes all girly and giggly, too."

Harper pretended to put her finger down her throat and Blake laughed.

"I care about your sister – and you – very much," Blake conceded.

"What about the other issue – the one with no legs?"

"Ah! The intrepid Diana Price."

Harper laughed.

"Give me your thoughts on her – you've spent many weeks in her company," Blake said.

"Initially, I thought she was the most annoying person on the planet – I still do, to be honest. I have her to thank for pulling me out of my depression and getting me talking with Scarlett. Sometimes, I think that part of her brain was in the legs she lost."

Harper paused to take a bite out of her Quarter Pounder with Cheese and to cram some fries into her capacious mouth. She swallowed the lot and carried on talking.

"For some reason I enjoy having her around and I feel that I can trust her with anything I have to say. There are some things which I don't feel I can talk to Keira about, but Diana will sit for ages and just listen to me before giving me a hug. Sometimes, I just want to slap her, but I find that I can't because I care for the dopey bitch."

Blake smiled at Harper as the youngster began to attack her burger like a starved tiger. Blake knew that the girl needed many extra calories to build up her body and help with the healing. The youngster had lost a lot of weight which was being steadily replaced by eating plenty.

"Diana has been through a lot. In the space of one afternoon, she lost her mother, and her big sister – not to mention her legs. Somehow, she moves from day to day without showing any hint of what she has been through. What I am about to tell you is between you and me; do not tell anybody else, please."

Harper nodded.

"Diana has never asked about her mother, or her sister. She was told of their death, somewhere during the first few weeks and it barely registered on the girl. She might have a father out there, but the Police could find no trace, and Diana knew nothing of her father. She was an orphan, alone in the world. She spent an entire month getting really angry at the drop of a hat, but then you came along, Harper. Somehow, you calmed her down and the tantrums went out the window. What your sister did for Diana when she went to that home – that was amazing. Keira's a little unsure of your feelings on Diana – you went ballistic when you found out, I heard."

"I was surprised, was all," Harper replied. "I love my sister very much and I stand by any of her decisions. I owe Keira everything for taking me in and putting up with my behaviour. I know I never made it easy for her. I have no problem with Diana living with us. I'm assuming that Diana will be your daughter when you get married and my niece?"

"That's correct, Harper. But you can see her as just another big sister, if you want."

"Will I be able to see you as my Dad?"

"Only, if you want to, and I would be honoured."

"Just keep the icky stuff behind closed doors, right?"

* * *

 ** _Vengeance Command Centre_**

Not surprisingly, the three _Predators_ were all covered in mud from head to toe.

Scarlett, covered in a similar amount of mud was lying on the cold, muddy ground with Kaitlin lying beside her.

"Why was Naomi getting sliced and diced the other day?" Scarlett asked.

"Wish I could tell you," Kaitlin whispered back. "Stay quiet – we're supposed to be ambushing Olivia and Electra.

"Sorry!" Scarlett responded as she looked out from under the wet, soggy bush.

It was not what Scarlett saw as fun, although the deeply depraved _Predators_ thought that it was simply the greatest. Kaitlin had the same toughness as Harper and despite Scarlett having found out that it had been Kaitlin who had taken away her right hand, Scarlett found the youngster to be fun. Actually, all the _Predators_ were fun and spending time with Kaitlin had convinced Scarlett that her father had been very wrong in his description of _Predators_. She had known it as being wrong when Harper had been her prisoner, but the mini-sleepover had confirmed everything in her mind. Her father was dead, but his legacy still existed, and that would have to be taken down, piece by piece.

Scarlett grinned as a pair of legs passed very close to her head and she nudged Kaitlin who was already up and moving as she triggered the hosepipe held in her hand and there was a pair of high-pitched screams from above them. Scarlett followed her earlier brief and she dived out, seizing hold of Olivia whose face was dripping with freezing cold water and momentarily distracted. Scarlett remembered her skills and she easily put the similarly-sized girl down into the mud. Kaitlin was attacking Electra who was a good few inches taller than the younger girl and the fight was turning into something which did not look playful. Olivia was a good fighter, too, Scarlett noticed as the other girl struggled to get out of the mud and into a position from where she could attack Scarlett. Olivia surprised Scarlett by executing a swift roll, putting Scarlett into the mud which was cold and oozing.

"No, you don't!" Scarlett growled as she flipped Olivia over her head and back into the oozing mud.

Olivia screamed during her unexpected flight through the air and she landed with a laugh and began giggling. Scarlett also laughed as she crouched in the mud. The two girls watched as Kaitlin and Electra went to town on one another before Naomi appeared with Jessica and Diana. Naomi groaned as she made to put an end to the fight before either girl got hurt but Electra was too good, and Kaitlin soon found herself on the ground.

"Not one solitary word!" Kaitlin growled.

Jessica stifled a laugh as she gazed down at the young girl who lay in a rather undignified position with her bottom stuck up in the air, her face in the mud. Naomi, though, had no such thoughts of stifling her own laugh and she laughed out loud.

"You are _so_ going to pay, cousin!" Kaitlin called out.

"You got your fucking arse handed to you by a goddamn _Yellow_? Fucking useless!"

Kaitlin rolled onto her back before sitting up and staring at Harper who just stood there shaking her head as she ran her eyes over all the muddy kids before settling on Scarlett.

"What do you have about muddy puddles, Scarlett?" Harper enquired with a grin.


	61. Cars and Kestrels

**Author's Note:** _Yes, as the astute amongst you will probably notice, it is August 2018. However, here comes the 2016 Christmas season for the_ **Forsaken Universe** _! (Yes, I am a little behind!) This storyline will be interconnected across three of my stories:_ **Forsaken** _,_ **Fusion: Los Angeles** _, and_ **Vengeance** _. There will be seasonal happiness, seasonal mayhem, and some seasonal sadness._

* * *

 ** _Early, the next morning  
Wednesday, December 21st, 2016_**

 ** _Prestwick Airport  
Scotland_**

The lurching of the Cameron's Overfinch Range Rover coming to a halt woke the two sleeping teens.

"What are we doing here?" Craig demanded as he looked around.

"Yeah – there's no school, so I should be in bed, asleep," Olivia pointed out sulkily.

"Seeing as you two are the eldest of all the junior members of _Vengeance_ , and you are both thirteen, we figured that you two should increase your skills," Cameron explained. "Craig, you can ride a motorcycle, so transiting onto four wheels should not be much of an issue. As for you, Olivia, you will be learning to drive the car, first."

"Cool!" Olivia exclaimed, waking up properly, her entire demeanour changing instantly.

"Apparently," Keira elaborated, "Jasper thinks you are mature enough to cope with the extra training."

Craig began laughing raucously before Olivia slapped him on the right cheek and he shut up with a scowl.

..._...

The aircraft hangar covered 5,934 square metres and towered upwards over twenty-one metres – it was also very empty, apart from a neat stack of portacabins over in the far-right corner at the back of the hanger . . . and four cars.

Olivia wandered over to the four cars with Craig and they both began examining the pair of Ford Fiesta ST-3 cars, one in red with the other in blue.

"Nice, aren't they?" Keira commented. "Turbocharged 1.6-litre petrol engine with 6-speed manual gearbox. 182-bhp and zero to sixty in 6.9 seconds. Seventeen-inch alloy wheels. Brand new."

"A bloody wet dream on wheels," Craig breathed.

"Unfortunately," Cameron chuckled. "You won't be driving those for a while – you will be driving those two."

Cameron pointed at the two other Ford Fiestas present in the hanger. Craig looked seriously depressed.

"Basic," Keira commented. "A 1.25-litre petrol engine with 5-speed manual gearbox. Hundred less with just 82-bhp and zero to sixty – eventually - in 13.3 seconds. Fifteen-inch alloy wheels, too. Both brand new."

"Okay – no longer aroused," Craig commented dryly.

..._...

 ** _Craig with Cameron_**

Craig was decidedly unhappy as a climbed behind the wheel of his light green Ford Fiesta.

In Craig's mind, the car was horrible. The steering wheel felt cheap, and the dashboard as a whole looked cheap. Craig figured that he knew what all the controls were, and he had seen his parents driving often enough. Cameron climbed in on the passenger side and he pulled the door closed.

"Okay, Craig, you have three pedals at your feet, from the left: clutch, brake, and accelerator. The arrangement is the same on every car, irrespective of which side of the car the steering wheel is located, or on which side of the road you drive."

..._...

 ** _Olivia with Keira_**

"Ahead of you is the steering wheel, as you would expect," Keira grinned to Olivia.

"I kind of figured that out, thanks," Olivia replied.

"If you reach between your legs . . . no, under the seat . . . there is a handle to pull which will allow you to slide the seat backwards and forwards. Pull it and slide the seat so you can comfortably reach the pedals and the steering wheel while still allowing a bend in your elbows and knees. Pull the lever down the right side of the seat to adjust the rake of the seat back."

Olivia spent a minute or two adjusting the seat so that she was comfortable.

"These seats are basic, but the other cars have electric seats, so you can adjust them more easily and in height too. Now to the bit you'll like," Keira grinned. "Here, in the middle, we have a knob."

"It's bigger than Craig's knob," Olivia commented.

..._...

 ** _Craig with Cameron_**

Cameron could see the two girls giggling about something in the other car, but he ignored them.

"In the middle here, we have the gear stick – very important. This model had five forward gears and one reverse gear. The gears are arranged in a standard 'H' format. ON most vehicles, first gear is up and to the left, then back to second, then a dogleg upwards for third, straight back to fourth, then another dogleg upwards for fifth. Okay, what does the 'R' stand for?"

"Reverse gear," Craig ventured, fairly sure of his response.

"Correct. For this car, you need to lift the knob before moving to select reverse – a safety feature to prevent you engaging reverse at speed and destroying your gearbox. Cars vary as to where reverse is located: top left, bottom left, top right, bottom right – you just have to be mindful when you get into a strange car. Some you have to push down to engage reverse, some don't have a safety catch. In the middle here, you have neutral."

"Cool."

..._...

 ** _Olivia with Keira_**

"The long handle to your left, that is the handbrake. This model has a manual one, others now have electronic parking brakes which make certain manoeuvres more difficult. Press the button and try to lower it," Keira directed.

Olivia gripped the lever with her left hand and she pressed the button on the end with her thumb.

"You may need to lift it slightly to release the ratchet."

Olivia tried again but with little success.

"Men!" Keira breathed. "Cameron was the last one in here and he's pulled the handbrake right to the top – men do that because we women often can't release the brake and we have to call for their help."

Keira grabbed the handle and she yanked it upwards before lowering it slightly.

"Your turn, honey."

..._...

 ** _Craig with Cameron_**

Craig had no problems with his handbrake and he could see Cameron grinning as Keira was obviously struggling with the yellow Ford Fiesta's handbrake.

"If you want to piss off a woman, always pull the handbrake right to the top when you park the car – they're often too weak to release it," Cameron chuckled. "Okay – that's the basics out of the way: start her up!"

As Cameron watched, Craig checked to make sure the car was not in gear. Cameron nodded his approval as Craig placed a foot on the left-hand pedal and then he hesitated for a moment before he turned the key. The engine caught instantly, and Craig released the key, grinning enormously.

"The other car has a button to start it, but many still use the common key," Cameron lectured. "Okay – you can see the dials are now alive. The left is the tachometer and is currently idling at just below a thousand RPMs. The right is the speedometer which is calibrated in miles-per-hour. In the centre, there is an important dial telling us what, Craig?"

"How much petrol we have in the tank?"

..._...

 ** _Olivia with Keira_**

After a minor issue with attempting to start the car while the gearbox was in gear, followed by a loud scream from Olivia as the car bolted forwards, Olivia quickly learnt what 'neutral' meant and they moved onto the dials and gauges.

"Naturally, you don't want to run out of petrol, or diesel, depending on what you are running. Some cars have bigger fuel tanks than others, but these are shitty, so they have shitty-sized fuel tanks."

"They look cool – I like the blue needles," Olivia commented.

"They are kind of nice," Keira agreed.

"Okay, we have the engine running. Place your left foot on the clutch . . . press it fully to the floor. Good. Now, engage first gear . . . over to the left and then forward – good. What's wrong?"

"I'm really nervous," Olivia admitted, and Keira could see the girl's hands shaking on the steering wheel.

"You'll do fine, Olivia."

..._...

 ** _Craig with Cameron_**

"Gently ease the clutch up . . . apply a little pressure on the accelerator . . . slowly . . . stop when you feel the clutch biting."

Craig gently manipulated the pedals, much as he would the accelerator and clutch on a motorcycle. The car felt wildly different and he was using his feet as opposed to his hands, but he knew the result he was looking for. He felt the car rock forwards, just slightly, and he held it there.

"Let off the handbrake – gently. Now ease up further on the clutch."

..._..

 ** _Olivia with Keira_**

The girl screamed with delight as she made the car move.

Okay, it was only two feet, but the car moved. The engine had stalled, for the eighth time, but Olivia did not care; she had made the car move.

"I just drove a car!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Just to prove the fact, Olivia restarted the car and she duplicated her momentous feat by moving the car forwards, about thirty feet before she slowed the car to a halt without stalling.

"I can drive!" she announced with a huge grin.

"You have a long ways to go, young lady," Keira chuckled. "Well done, Olivia."

..._...

"That was _so_ awesome!"

Craig was almost flattened by his girlfriend as she ran to hug him tightly. He understood why she was so happy, and he was just as pleased with that morning's accomplishments. Once Craig had peeled Olivia off of him, Cameron looked at them both.

"Well, done, guys!" he said. "You've both taken great steps this morning, and we're both very proud of you."

"It was fun," Olivia admitted.

"I think she came in her knickers," Cameron commented.

"Thought I smelt something," Keira said.

Olivia's face turned pink as everybody laughed at her and she scowled.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

Cassie knew that it was a special time, so she gave the two girls and the boy some slack.

Andrew had obtained and dragged in a massive Christmas tree which the kids were decorating. Kaitlin was arranging miles of tinsel while Naomi arranged various ornaments on the branches. Jake helped by lifting Kaitlin higher up the tree when her arms became too short to reach a relevant branch. Overall, it took them over an hour to properly decorate the tree and all three kids then stood back to observe their handiwork. They were very pleased with the results.

"You guys done?" Cassie asked as she checked in on the youngsters.

"Yep!" Kaitlin announced. "Can I turn on the lights? Please?"

Naomi and Jake both exchanged a look and nodded.

"Go on," Cassie directed, and Kaitlin dived under the tree.

As Kaitlin flicked on the switch, the tree lit up from top to bottom. Kaitlin scrambled back out from under the tree and the girl sat at Jake's feet, gazing up in amazement at the glittering tree above her. Cassie chuckled to herself as she saw the amazed looks on the faces of all three youngsters. None of them had had a real Christmas in quite a while – for Jake, it had been the longest. Andrew put his arm around Cassie and she leaned into him while they both contemplated the kids as they surveyed the lights which twinkled around the room. There was a triple intake of breath as Andrew flipped off the overhead lights, plunging the room into semi-darkness, lit only by the twinkling, multi-coloured fairy lights which reflected off the various baubles, ornaments, and lengths of tinsel which adorned the tree.

"It's going to be an amazing Christmas," Andrew commented.

* * *

 ** _The following morning  
Thursday, December 22nd_**

 ** _Beacon Croft_**

"Kate!"

There was the thud of feet on the stairs and the sixteen-year-old breezed into the living room, moments later.

"You called?"

"Sit down, please," David Montgomery directed.

Kate looked over at David and then at Cassie, a worried expression crossing the girl's face.

"Hi, Cassie," Kate offered. "Am I in trouble?"

"No," Cassie replied with a smile. "We just want to learn some more about you."

"Huh?"

"What is a _Kestrel_?"

Kate looked pensive for a few moments before a resigned expression crossed her face. The girl sat down, and she took a deep breath.

"I've not heard that term in a few years," Kate admitted. "It took up eighteen months of my life, but it was the best part of _Urban Predator_ , to be honest. I felt different when I was flying – for the first time in a long time, I actually felt in control."

"Flying is very special," a voice said from the doorway.

"Kate, this is Keira – she is a pilot," Cassie said in introduction. "I'm sure you know the girl with Keira."

"Hello, Willow – they let you out, huh?" Kate offered with a grin.

"I suppose," Willow replied.

"A girl of many words," David commented dryly.

Keira simply shook her head.

"Kate, Willow – I would like you both to come with us," she said.

* * *

 ** _Prestwick Airport_**

The hanger was enormous, but they did not go inside.

Keira had parked the car around the side and she led the two girls and Cassie back around the front and towards a small single-engine helicopter which sat on the concrete hardstanding.

"The AgustaWestland AW009 helicopter. Five seats, three-bladed articulated hub for the main rotors, twin-bladed tail rotor. You two, are going flying," Keira announced.

For the first time since her arrival in the UK, Willow actually smiled. Kate, too, was grinning enormously. Keira walked the two girls around the helicopter, pre-flighting the aircraft. Keira was very impressed by the girls' knowledge as she quizzed them on the various parts of the helicopter during the walk around. Finally, they all returned to the cockpit and Keira waved Kate into the left front seat while Cassie and Willow climbed into the rear and each took one of the outer seats, Willow seated behind Kate. Keira climbed into the pilot's seat and all four strapped in as David Montgomery shut and secured the two sliding rear doors and the two front hatches. Keira and Cassie double-checked the harnesses of their charges and they were happy to see that both had fitted their five-point harnesses together correctly.

"Girls, please watch what I do," Keira said as she reached over to the centre console on her left, and she flipped the BATTERY switch to the ON position.

Keira then reached up to the overhead console and she flicked on two switches: the switches for the anti-collision lights and the radio/navigation receivers. Next came the fuel pump switch and the master fuel system switch which was protected by a red cover, once on, to prevent accidental switch off during flight. Keira pushed the protective red cover into place. A few more switches later, she released the red rotor brake lever, then she engaged the yellow clutch lever, both located above the windshield, and as the single Rolls Royce gas-turbine screamed, the main rotor began to turn, spinning faster and faster until they were ready for take-off. After a brief radio exchange with the tower, Keira pulled up on the collective held in her left hand and the helicopter slowly lifted off the concrete, the skid landing gear coming free.

With a small pressure on the left pedal, the helicopter came around to port as it gained height vertically. At a little over two hundred feet, Keira pushed forwards on the cyclic in her right hand and the helicopter dipped at the nose and gained forward momentum, increasing speed as it rose higher into the air. The helicopter was small, and not very powerful, but it was agile and perfect for short flights and for training which was exactly why Keira had acquired it just two weeks previously. The seats were comfortable and the four of them conversed over headsets, talking about the take-off. Even Willow appeared to have come to life, joining in using many more words than she had used on the entire ninety-minute drive to Prestwick. As they flew, Keira demonstrated various systems present on the helicopter and she explained everything to Willow and Kate. In return, both girls asked many intelligent questions as they both gleaned information on the aircraft.

Keira flew about a dozen miles to the northeast before settling the machine down in a vast grassy field.

..._...

Leaving the rotors spinning at idle, Keira released her harness, pulled off her headset, and pushed open the hatch beside her.

Kate looked worried as Keira walked around the blunt nose of the helicopter. Keira stopped beside the other hatch and she pulled it open, waving the girl out. Kate released her harness and hung up her headset, then slipped out and down to the ground.

"Other seat, _Goshawk_!" Keira yelled over the howling engine and whirling rotor blades.

Kate grimaced as she walked around the front of the helicopter and she pulled herself into the cockpit again, pulling the hatch shut behind her and securing it. As Kate connected up her harness and pulled on her headset, Keira was doing the same on the opposite side of the helicopter. Kate's hands shook slightly as she gripped the controls and she rested her feet on the pedals.

"Take a deep breath and, Kate," Keira said calmly. "Can you feel the pedals?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Keira pulled up slightly on the collective, lifting the skids about an inch off the grass.

"Okay, turn us to port."

With a gentle press of a pedal, the helicopter turned a few degrees to port before Kate shakily cancelled out the turn with opposite pressure on the opposing pedal.

"I'm a little rusty," she said.

"That's good, honey," Keira replied supportively. "Now, lift us off into a low hover, please."

Kate took a few deep breaths before she gently eased up on the collective and the helicopter lifted off the ground, inch by inch. She gently massaged the pedals to keep control of the yaw, and she gently moved the cyclic to maintain position. Keira was impressed; the hover was a little jerky but controlled. Kate definitely knew what she was doing, Keira decided, indicating that her flight training had been very real.

"I'm impressed, Kate."

Kate blushed under her headset and she grinned.

..._...

"Translate us into forward flight and give us a twenty feet-per-minute climb."

Kate followed the instructions and the helicopter dipped at the nose and with a little wobble, moved slowly forwards and began to climb. Kate's eyes kept moving across her instruments as she set up a subconscious scan, taking in the readings and moving onto the next dial, then the next. She also kept an eye on her surroundings, ahead, to port, to starboard, and a brief glance in the rear-view mirrors mounted on the outside of the helicopter. Keira recognised the look on Kate's face as the same which she was used to seeing on Harper's face when she was in _Predator_ mode. The girl was very focussed on her tasks as she watched the twin six-inch by 8-inch screens in the cockpit and she gently moved the collective, cyclic, and pedals simultaneously to maintain the steady forward flight of the helicopter.

"STOP!" Keira shouted, and Kate instantly brought the helicopter into a surprisingly steady hover. "Drop us back to the ground, Kate."

Without hesitation, Kate dropped the machine in a controlled fashion, down to the ground, touching down with only a slight bump. Kate pushed the collective downwards to hold the helicopter on the ground.

"Kate, out – Willow, your turn."

..._...

Willow was out of her seat and hauling open Kate's hatch before had released her harness and hung up her headset.

Kate secure Willow's hatch before running around to the rear door, sliding it shut once she was in her seat. Willow was already familiarising herself with the controls and the cockpit while Kate was strapping herself in and pulling on her headset.

"A little bit eager, eh, Rampart," Kate chuckled.

"Bite me, Katie," came the response.

Kate scowled at the one version of her name which she really hated. While she had no real dislike for Willow, the American ticked her off at times with her 'I don't give a shit' attitude. They had been friends, on and off, ever since they had both been taken as ten-year-olds for the First Intake, all those years ago. They had been together as _Urban Predator_ had fallen, and they had been together when FEAR had recruited them. The two girls had been inseparable for a few months during training, but then they had drifted apart.

"Do we need to put you two in a room together?" Cassie asked pointedly.

"Sorry, Kate," Willow responded.

"Show them what you can do, Willow – you were always better than me when it came to flying," Kate replied.

"Let's see some moves, Rampart," Keira said. "Your aircraft."

"My aircraft," the sixteen-year-old said as she eased the 1,800-kilogramme helicopter into the air and after hovering for a few moments, Willow spun the helicopter around on its axis.

After spinning one hundred degrees, Willow translated into sideways flight to starboard with the helicopter still spinning on its axis. Then the helicopter straightened out and tipped forwards as the machine rocketed forwards, rapidly increasing speed to about sixty knots and rising to six-hundred feet. Keira was busy on the radio, clearing their flight with the Prestwick Airport tower with a full VFR flight-plan out to sea.

"Take us out on a course of two-eight-four, Rampart, altitude five thousand."

"Copy two-eight-four at five thousand," Willow responded.

..._..

The helicopter raced across the coast at one hundred knots.

Troon passed five thousand feet beneath them as Willow turned the helicopter towards Lady Isle, a small uninhabited island, some two miles southwest of Troon. Willow expertly brought the helicopter swooping downwards towards the island, passing within four hundred yards as she blazed across the raging surface of the Firth of Clyde at an altitude of about sixty feet, then curving upwards, back into the sky and banking the helicopter hard to the right and towards the land. As Keira watched the very talented pilot, she was amazed by the concentration that the sixteen-year-old exhibited as Willow demonstrated skills normally only acquired by those a lot older with much more recent experience. The girl's recall of how to fly was exemplary.

Keira had one final test for the girl as the crossed the coast to the south of Ayr. As they approached a large open field, Keira reached up and she pulled back on the yellow main rotor clutch lever, disconnecting the turbine engine from the rotor blades. A loud horn sounded in the cockpit and rather than panic, Willow expertly controlled the helicopter as it sank like a stone, the main rotor blades wind-milling, providing limited lift to the lightweight machine.

"Brace! Brace! Brace!" Willow called out as they neared the ground and she performed a perfect autorotation landing, the helicopter striking the ground and sliding along on its skids for a dozen yards before Keira pushed in the clutch lever and Willow pulled the stricken aircraft back into the air.

"My aircraft!" Keira announced as she took control.

"Your aircraft," Willow acknowledged removing her hands and feet from the controls.

Willow grinned happily as she turned to look at Kate who smiled back, holding up the thumb of her right hand.

* * *

 ** _South of Glasgow_**

On the way home, the five of them stopped at a Pizza Hut for a bite to eat.

All of them were very hungry and they chatted animatedly as they all crammed slices of stuffed crust pizza into their mouths. The talk naturally turned to flying.

"What did you fly, Keira?" Kate asked.

"I learnt to fly on the Gazelle AH.1, then I moved onto the Lynx HAS.3 with some time spent in the Sea King HAS.6. I updated to the Lynx HMA.8 and then the Merlin HAS.1 which was my final posting with the Royal Navy."

"You still in the navy?" Willow asked.

"I'm on the Reserve List as a Lieutenant Commander."

"Cool!" Willow replied.

"Why did you leave the navy?" Kate asked.

"My sister is one of you. She was rescued, earlier this year, and I took time off to be with her."

"Sorry to hear that," Willow said with real meaning.

"Harper's young; she will be okay."

"I just have two _Predators_ for daughters," Cassie grimaced. "I thought I was bad at that age, but those two are a handful."

"We are, aren't we?" Kate grinned.

"Tell me about it!" David commented. "I have two in the house, now."

"Craig's sweet," Kate offered.

"He has his moments, but you kids went through a lot," David said. "I know you guys learnt a lot of skills, many of which are about hurting people, but flying is something worth knowing."

"You a pilot?" Willow asked.

"No chance!" David chuckled. "I was aircrew. I began on the Wasp HAS.1, then moved through the Wessex 3 and 5, before seeing out the Sea King from service. I do the hard work, leaving the bloody officers to do the easy bit and fly my birds."

Keira raised an eyebrow, but she did not rise to the obvious bait which she had heard many, many times before.

* * *

 ** _Friday, December 23rd_**

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

It was Charlotte's first visit to the house

She had spent forty minutes being dragged (literally) around by Kaitlin as she was shown every nook and cranny. The pair then found Jake in his bedroom when Kaitlin shoved open his door.

"Kaitlin!" Jake exclaimed. "Cassie told you to knock."

"Forgot," Kaitlin responded with a wave of her hand. "This is Jake's bedroom."

"I figured that," Charlotte replied. "Hi, Jake."

"Hi, Charlie," Jake replied.

The three kids headed downstairs to the living room where they found Naomi playing with Sasha. The adults, Cassie, Andrew, and Alexandra were in the kitchen having a drink of tea.

"You okay?" Naomi asked Charlotte who had sunk into a chair to rest after her enforced tour of the property.

"She's fine," Kaitlin replied for Charlotte who had barely opened her mouth to respond.

Jake simply grinned at his friend of many years who grinned back.

"Has little miss bossy boots shown you everything, Charlotte?" Cassie asked.

"Yes, she. . ." Kaitlin began before Cassie clamped a hand over the girl's mouth.

"Yes, thank you, Cassie," Charlotte replied as Kaitlin was released.

Kaitlin scowled as she sank into a chair, staring at her outstretched feet, ignoring the giggling from Naomi.

"You have an amazing house, Cassie," Charlotte went on.

"You are always welcome here, Charlotte," Cassie replied.

* * *

 ** _Saturday, December 24th_**

 ** _Christmas Eve_**

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

That night, every child was on their best behaviour, whether or not they believed in Father Christmas.

Even little Kaitlin, the youngest of them all had managed over twenty-four hours without a single bad word passing her lips – a minor miracle in itself, Cassie had thought to herself. As for Naomi, she had not once picked on Kaitlin, nor teased her even a smidgen. Andrew had commented to Cassie that it was unnatural for two little girls to behave so perfectly – especially when you considered what they were inside. As for young Jake, he was being the perfect gentleman, always on hand to help Cassie in the kitchen, or Andrew around the house. The weather was cold, so Andrew and Jake had ensured that the fire in the living room was laid and that there was plenty of coal and wood ready to keep the fire burning and the warmth emptying out into the room where the curtains had been securely closed to ward out any draughts. At five, that evening, the fire had been lit and the family sat down to enjoy some special time together.

Cassie put on a DVD from her childhood, encouraging the three youngsters to sit and watch the movie.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Another fire raged in another fireplace that evening.

The house was old and could be a little chilly at night. Richard had laid and lit the fire that evening before encouraging their charge to settle down and watch a DVD which was a family tradition for the Perrin family. Charlotte could vaguely remember seeing the short film, many years before. It was called, The Snowman, and it was an animated film with a Christmas theme. At first, Charlotte had considered herself to be too old for such triviality, but the music and the Christmas theme of the movie had her entranced, throughout the entire twenty-six-minute run.

Alexandra and Richard grinned happily as the sipped their sherry and watched the young girl as she lay on her front, her chin supported by her hands, her legs lazily kicking in the air as she watched the snowmen dance on the television. For them, it had been a long time since they had had a youngster to look after directly, and they knew from past experience that teenagers were a struggle to bring up at the best of times. Once the film was over, Charlotte looked around at the adults, a big smile on her young face.

"Again?" she asked.

Richard chuckled as he reset the film.

* * *

 ** _Beacon Croft_**

The story was very much the same, but without the fire, as Craig and Jordan sat watching Craig's own Christmas favourite: Star Wars Episode 4 – A New Hope.

Sixteen-year-old Kate Fincham was very happy to join in – she was not a Star Wars fan, but she became enthralled by the unfolding story and she grinned at the antics of Princess Leia Organa and scowled at Han Solo's blatantly sexist behaviour towards the princess. Nonetheless, she cheered on the Rebel Alliance as they fought against the odds and she booed Darth Vader as he went after Luke and his friends. However, when Ben fell to Vader, her hand flew to her mouth, unbidden, shocked by the turn of events.

At the end of the movie, just as the Death Star exploded, she cheered, then she turned on Craig.

"More! I need more!"

At a nod from his father, and a laugh from Jordan, Craig dug out The Empire Strikes Back on Blu-ray.

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

There were many mixed emotions as the family gathered for dinner that night.

It was to be the very first Christmas for them all in their new family unit. For Olivia and Jessica, it was their first Christmas without their own parents and the fact was not lost on the two sisters. For Christopher and his parents, they each felt the loss of Charlene, a wonderful sister and daughter, taken by a stray bullet during the same incident which had taken the Kensington's lives. The two girls had fitted into their adoptive family perfectly, despite a rocky few hours for Olivia at one point. Despite that, the youngster was amazingly resilient, and she had grown in stature to become a more rounded young lady and a key member of _Vengeance_. As for Jessica, she had been the first of the pair to meet _Vengeance_ , in a very unexpected manner, but the girl had also grown up a lot over the past few months and become an important asset for _Vengeance_. Jasper was very proud of his adoptive daughters, as was Lynn.

Though Christopher still mourned his little sister, he had moved on and he accepted his new sisters, one older and one younger, without reservation.

* * *

 ** _Auchenross_**

The fire raged in the fireplace, and for the first time in a long time, Dakota felt at ease with her life.

She stared at the flames, smiling at her codename while she had been a _Marauder_ : Firebrand. She had lived up to that name in every way as a _Marauder_ , but she was glad to have shed that name. She knew that Charlotte, known as Intrepid, wanted to keep her codename. But Charlotte had not received her _Predator_ codename, as Dakota had, so she had no other to fall back to. It was a quandary for the girl and a bit of an identity crisis, but Arbiter was who she was, not Firebrand.

"A penny for your thoughts," Sinead said as she sat down in a chair close to the fire.

"Just contemplating my identity."

"I can see that as being important."

"I'm just glad that that is my biggest worry right now. Thanks for being there for me."

"Always, Dakota."

* * *

 ** _London_**

 _"Electra!"_

"Coming, Grandpa! I need to go, Mary."

 _"I miss you, Electra,"_ Mary said from northern Scotland, over the video link.

"I miss you too, Mary – you're my best friend; after Stephanie, of course."

 _"Of course,"_ Mary laughed. _"Merry Christmas, Electra."_

"You stay safe, Mary, and Merry Christmas to you."

Electra waved to her friend until the connection was cut. The girl then ran out of her bedroom and she scampered down the stairs to where her Grandpa, Father, and Brother all awaited her arrival in the living room. It was her very first Christmas for many years and the massive tree in the corner of the room had filed her with joy when it had been set up. She had never felt so much joy and for a while, it had overwhelmed her, and it had taken her father's soothing voice to calm her down on more than one occasion.

Electra had spent time talking with Stephanie and Mary, relying on her two best friends to organise her thoughts and emotions. Mary was the control, providing guidance where Stephanie could not. That Christmas was to be amazing and the ten-year-old was determined to enjoy every bit of it.

Life was good.


	62. That Season Again

**_Saturday, December 24th, 2016_**

 ** _Sandringham, Norfolk_**

For the young princess, the day was extra special.

It was the day in which she turned fourteen, and it was to be the first Christmas of being a very different person to who she was on any previous Christmas. Her experiences of just a few months previously had changed her life completely. She was no longer the snobby little princess who drove her protective officer mad with her incessantly obnoxious behaviour. Her obnoxious behaviour had been quite literally kicked out of her by her new friends who did not see her as a Royal Princess. Instead, they saw her as a trusted friend – a difference which Mary loved. Being physically manhandled and thrust into muddy puddles naked had been only a small part of converting Her Royal Highness Princess Mary of Kintyre and Lorne into somebody who was in control of who she was, and who could make sound judgements after careful thought. She also had an alter ego which allowed her to go out into the world and help those who may one day become her subjects. That alter ego was the vigilante known as Belle.

Even her father had noticed a big change in his little girl. She was able to perform her Royal duties without a problem, but she could also be a loving daughter. It was that side of her which her father enjoyed. Mary was more caring, and she put more thought into how she treated people. The much-maligned Ginny was also enjoying more peace and quiet without her charges usual antics which very often got the youngster into trouble. Mary also understood a little more about how she should keep a low profile when out in public so as not to publicly embarrass her family should her very special secret come out.

As was normal for her, not so normal, family, they all sat down to open their presents at tea time – yes, it was Christmas Eve, but that was the tradition of the Royal Family who followed the German practice of opening presents on Christmas Eve. They began in the White Drawing Room where a giant twenty-foot Christmas tree towered overall before heading through into the Red Drawing Room where all the gifts for the family had been laid out on a white linen-covered trestle table. Mary ignored the younger members who all scrambled for their own presents as she opted to demonstrate that she was a maturing teenager who no longer behaved like a child.

There was the usual selection of exquisitely wrapped gifts which contained various items which appeared to elicit much humour from the senior members of the family. Mary had received many items for her jewellery box over the years which, unlike the average teenager, had a resale value in six figures. Mary was unaware of how much other members of her family knew about what she had been getting up to, but some appeared to know much more than she thought was safe. For example, her uncle, Prince Andrew had given her a very nice set of body armour – presumably in reference to the attack at Kensington Palace when she had been shot. The prince had considered it very amusing, however, he had winked at Mary indicating an obviously hidden agenda. In the same vein, her uncle, Prince Charles had provided her with a very expensive, royal blue crash helmet. What use that might be without a motorcycle – which she could not even ride should she posses one – she had no idea? The other gifts had been the usual useless, but expensive, rubbish.

Her Father and her Grandmother appeared to be up to something, but Mary could not figure out what.

..._...

That evening, Mary was decked out in her finest.

Ginny had taken great pride in affixing Mary's award invested by the Queen. The Royal Family Order of Queen Elizabeth II would be very visible on the youngster's gown and it would be the very first time that she had worn the device in view of others. Naturally, her arrival in the formal dining room for a candle-lit dinner at 8 P.M. that night raised a few comments from more senior Royals who were very surprised to see such a young girl wearing the Royal Family Order of Queen Elizabeth II on her left breast. However, a strong glance from Mary's father silenced those comments before they had begun.

"Mary!"

The Queen gave her granddaughter a big, and very public hug.

Mary was very special to her, not to mention that the girl had taken a key role in saving the very country which she had ruled over for sixty-four years and which she would continue to rule over for many more years to come.

* * *

 ** _That same evening_**

 ** _Paris, France_**

"Ah, yes. . ."

Marinette bit her lip so as not to scream and awaken the sleeping ten-year-old, a few doors down. Adrien's fingers were second only to his tongue when it came to the exciting of her body. He was also very quick to pull the clothes from her body and very soon, she was naked as the day she was born. His hands ran gently over her ample breasts with the pert nipples which even then were standing hard and erect, yet hyper-sensitive to the slightest breath of air.

Adrien blew across both nipples causing Marinette to giggle. He began to kiss her, starting with the left nipple. His kisses moved down, across her supple, yet rigid stomach formed from the softest of skin. He blew into her belly button, eliciting another giggle and a shudder. Marinette was struggling with the suspense as his lips moved closer and closer to her . . . she groaned, and she shuddered as he gently blew across her hair – he was teasing her as he often did, but she loved it. He kissed her directly at the top of her labia and she squealed. She tensed up as his tongue began to work on her most sensitive body part. She was already still partly aroused from her arrival earlier on – very soon, she was panting as her hips moved steadily up and down, pressing into his tongue as it teased its way around her labia, pushing through into her damp, internal warmth.

"You taste good tonight, just the right balance of wetness and heat," Adrien mused.

"Less talk, more . . . zut!"

Marinette gave up trying to talk. Despite her fitness, she was struggling to breathe as Adrien played her like a fiddle – with his tongue. His fingers began to caress her left breast, almost overloading her senses with incredible sensations which coursed throughout her slim body. Her brain was telling her to stop everything before she exploded – but her mind was enjoying the erotic sensations which almost made her delirious with ecstasy. As her labia parted in their natural fashion, Adrien took advantage and he pushed his tongue inside, ever deeper and deeper. Marinette gripped his naked back – somehow, he always managed to shrug off his clothes while he pushed her to ever increasing euphoria – her nails dug in, eliciting a grunt of pain. Adrien loved that part; the pain only made him caress and excite Marinette more. He could feel blood pumping inside him and he knew that he was as hard as he ever got. He heard Marinette let out a small scream and he knew what was coming. He allowed himself to be flipped over onto his back and he found the most gorgeous pair of eyes gazing down at him.

With an evil grin, Marinette slid down the bed and she began to lick the fully erect, hardened cock that stood before her. She had seen bigger, but she had never tasted one so good. Each lick began at the base and she gradually worked her way, inch by inch, to the tip where each lick would send shivers through her man. Marinette knew that he was hard because of her and the excitement which she elicited within him with her naked body. After a few more licks, Marinette took Adrien into her mouth and she began to suck in earnest, remembering to keep her teeth away from the throbbing shaft. Adrien moaned as Marinette's tongue caressed the sensitive tip, especially the underside. She knew that Adrien enjoyed that part being tickled the most, just as she enjoyed his tongue on her clit. The only difference was that when Adrien came, she had to be careful as more than once she had almost choked on his hot effluent. She had learnt to gauge the sensations under her tongue and she knew when he was about to blow. Instead of backing off, she licked and sucked ever harder, feeling Adrien tensing up and panting hard as, in a blink of eye, her mouth was filled with copious amounts of a sweet, yet salty, substance which almost burnt her tongue as it surged around her mouth in ever decreasing amounts until he was totally spent.

She savoured the taste, the texture, as she swallowed the gloopy substance and then licked him clean of every last strain. He would lie there, like a beached fish, panting. His thighs would shudder as he came down from the orgasm. Marinette enjoyed the looks of deep love and affection that poured from Adrien's pale green eyes. She enjoyed watching his penis shrivel but then she would lie on top of him and kiss him.

"Je t'aime Adrien."

"Je t'aime Marinette."

As she kissed him, she would feel his limp penis harden beneath her as it rubbed against her vulva. She would give him the time required to fully harden and then she would sink his shaft inside her, pushing the tip through her labia and on into her vagina. The fullness she felt with him inside her was something she craved as she rode him. Marinette felt herself tense up with each and every thrust as her hips caused him to move in and out, in and out. Then they would entwine as they rolled over and Adrien would smile down, thrusting his hips deeply into his fiancé. Harder and faster they would work, frantically kissing each other as if they were never going to fuck again as if they might never see one another again after that night.

The crushing orgasms built, and they struck almost simultaneously. They both yelled out in sheer ecstasy causing a ten-year-old girl to snap awake, a few steps down the corridor. Yvette focussed on the sounds of love making and she cringed, pulling the duvet up over her head.

"Sale bâtards!"

* * *

 ** _Sunday, December 25th_**

 ** _Christmas Day_**

 ** _East Mayfield  
Edinburgh, Scotland_**

The incessant bouncing and giggling were seriously getting on her nerves.

"I want to be an only child, again," Harper growled. "Or, at least, I want a sibling that knows how to stay in her own goddamn bed!"

"Merry Christmas, Harps!"

"I _so_ want to kill you," Harper growled.

"Do it, then," Diana challenged the younger girl.

Harper sat up and she allowed her shoulders to slump, then she grinned.

"Merry Christmas, Diana."

Harper then cringed as she was hugged a little too tightly, before being kissed on the cheek. Diana then walked off to go and disturb Keira and Blake. Harper smiled to herself, happy that her first Christmas in years had actually arrived. Harper carefully twisted herself around and she gingerly placed her feet on the floor before pushing herself up with her right arm. After adjusting her overlarge T-shirt, Harper hobbled through to her sister's bedroom.

"Merry Christmas, Keira."

Harper found herself swept into a huge, and slightly painful, hug. Keira gave her little sister a big kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Harper," Keira said.

"A very Merry Christmas, young Harper," Blake offered from the other side of the bed.

"Merry Christmas, Blake. Err . . . did you two actually sleep, last night?"

Keira exchanged a wicked glance with Blake before she responded to the pointed question.

"Plenty."

"You are kidding?" Harper groaned. "I thought sex was once a night – you two went on for hours!"

Keira giggled as her face turned a delicate shade of pink.

"If they used these, then there's four empty packets," Diana offered as she held up four square foil packets, all of which were torn open and empty.

"Those are condoms, Diana," Harper pointed out as she cringed.

"Ewww!" Diana said as she dropped the wrappers.

"I thought that adults were supposed to be more reserved," Harper commented.

"I need a shower," Keira commented as she threw back the duvet, stood up, and then walked out of the bedroom towards the bathroom . . . completely naked.

Harper and Diana just stared after her, their mouths hanging open. Blake stepped out of the bed wearing a pair of boxer shorts, much to the girls' relief, and he followed the naked Keira.

"You two are going to shower _together_?" Diana exploded.

"We're gonna fuck too!" Keira yelled back with a girly giggle.

"I am going to be sick – come on, Diana," Harper grimaced.

..._...

About forty minutes later, Harper and Diana were dressed and sitting in the kitchen waiting for Keira and Blake to appear.

That they did, dressed, and looking very pleased with themselves. Harper gave her big sister a very stern look indeed before she spoke.

"What possessed you to parade around naked?" Harper demanded.

"You do," Keira shot back with a grin.

"I'm a damaged nine-year-old who doesn't know any better," Harper responded. "As for you . . . you . . ."

"Have breasts and pubes? So, what – you're my little sister and I have no issues with you seeing me naked. Same with you, Diana, but I promise never to do it again; does that help?"

Diana and Harper grinned.

"I have no problem with it – you just surprised the fuck out of me," Harper said.

"You have a beautiful body, Keira," Diana admitted. "I hope my body is as beautiful as yours, one day."

"Your body will probably start changing a long time before Harper's does, and I am sure it will be fine," Keira said.

"I have no complaints with you being naked," Blake commented, and Harper giggled. "Anybody want presents?"

There was a mad dash for the living room, from where both girls had been banned since bedtime the previous night.

* * *

 ** _Paris, France_**

 ** _Christmas Day_**

Yvette gave Adrien and Marinette the evil eye when they both entered the kitchen that morning.

Marinette raised an eyebrow and looked down at their young charge who appeared to be decidedly annoyed about something. There was a ten Euro note sitting on the table.

"Do you know what I should be doing with this?" Yvette asked as she picked up the note.

Marinette simply shook her head.

"After you two happily . . . how should I put it . . . fucked the night away, some very bad words went through my mind as I cringed and hid under the duvet. So, being a good girl, I am going to follow the example you have set for me – 'Yvette! Dix Euro – pot!' – and place this where it belongs."

With that, Yvette stood up, and she walked over to where there was a large glass jar. Yvette lifted the lid, and she forced the ten Euro note in amongst enough Euros to pay off the national debt for a small country. She then tried to force the lid back on, but the pressure of the coins and notes were too much. Marinette simply laughed at Yvette's impression of herself as the young girl turned to her and grinned.

"Tu vas avoir besoin d'un plus grand pot!"

* * *

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

Amber was up first.

It was a strange feeling to be getting up on Christmas Day but not really looking forward too it. Her mind had been filled with the past, and the hell that had been the past few months. She felt left out, to be honest. Scarlett would be taken off for things which were kept secret, including sleepovers. What could be so secret about a sleepover? There had always been an underlying resentfulness which Amber now felt coming to the fore. She was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Happy Christmas!" came a voice.

"Is it?" Amber responded as she laid eyes on a grinning Scarlett. "I would have expected you to be sad."

"I'm trying to make the best of a situation that is beyond my control, Amber," Scarlett glowered.

For Scarlett, it was a horrible time. Christmas was for families, but she no longer had one, and her father's loss was still very raw. Amber was a real pain the arse, and Scarlett was struggling to put up with the girl when she was around.

"Good morning and a very Happy Christmas to you two girls!" Cameron announced as he entered the kitchen and began grabbing the components for a cooked breakfast. "Hope you are all hungry! Amber, could you find me some bacon, and the square sausage, please."

"Merry Christmas, girls!" Natasha called out.

"Merry Christmas Cameron, Natasha," Scarlett responded.

Amber simply waved a hand as she vanished behind the fridge door.

"Scarlett, get the kettle on for a brew, 'kay?" Natasha asked.

"On the way," Scarlett announced.

Very soon, the kitchen was filled with the sounds of bacon crackling, and the sausages spitting. The kitchen was warm and cosy, despite the dull, gloomy, and very cold weather outside. Amber's Grinch-like mood was generally ignored by all as they pulled together a massive breakfast for all to enjoy. Scarlett enjoyed helping in the kitchen, so she was not put out by requests for this and that.

Amber just sat out of the way which actually helped everyone.

* * *

 ** _Lasswade Road_**

For Jeremy, it was all partly a dream.

He awoke that Christmas morning and he hesitated. Normally, he would have bolted through to his parents' bedroom, but he was worried that he might find his father alone and his mother only a dream. The twelve-year-old boy crawled out of bed, and he carefully headed for his parents' bedroom. He pushed open the door, very slowly. Then he stopped dead – his father was there, but he was alone. It had all been a dream – or a nightmare.

"Hi, sweetie!"

Jeremy turned to see his mother coming up the stairs. He ran and hugged his mother tightly.

"Mum!"

"Merry Christmas, Jeremy."

"Merry Christmas, Mum."

"What's all the noise about."

Jeremy turned again to see a tired-looking Ewan coming out of his bedroom.

"Happy Xmas, Ewan," Jeremy grinned.

"Happy Christmas, Mrs Lai," Ewan said.

"Call me, Kensi, Ewan – I've already told you that," Kensi scolded.

"Sorry, Kensi."

"Why can't you all lie in," Trevor commented. "Merry Christmas, all."

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

"What he said," Ewan added. "Can I go back to bed now?"

"Breakfast!" Kensi ordered, pointing the boy down the stairs.

* * *

 ** _Sandringham, Norfolk_**

That morning, Mary enjoyed breakfast with her father before heading downstairs to find her Grandmother.

After tripping over Willow, the corgi, who was nonchalantly dozing in a doorway, Mary found her Grandfather in the drawing room enjoying a cup of tea as he perused the most recent copy of Horse & Hound magazine.

"Morning, sweet pea – Merry Christmas."

"Morning, Grandpa – Merry Christmas."

Mary gave her Grandpa a kiss and a hug just as her Grandmother appeared.

"Merry Christmas, Gran!"

"A very Merry Christmas to you, Mary."

Mary was about to head off to find her father when her Grandmother stopped her.

"Mary, the main part of your Christmas present will be ready for you on Boxing Day."

"Main?"

"We decided that you might like something special, including something for your friends."

Mary grinned enormously.

* * *

 ** _Auchenross_**

Dakota awoke to find something heavy at the foot of her bed.

It was a small heap of neatly wrapped presents. The fourteen-year-old girl was stunned. She had not seen real Christmas presents in years. She sat staring at them for so long, that Sinead stood at the door for a good two minutes before she spoke.

"Merry Christmas, Dakota."

"Huh? Sorry, Sinead – Merry Christmas. Are these all for me?"

"I don't see anybody else sleeping here, do you?"

"I don't believe in Father Christmas," Dakota pointed out with a grin.

"If you don't want them. . ."

"No!" Dakota almost yelled as she dived out of the bed and grabbed the nearest present.

Sinead chuckled. She knew what the girl was feeling, and she was giving Dakota free rein.

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

Olivia groaned as she felt two bodies diving onto her bed.

"What?" she demanded into her pillow.

"It's time for grumpy teenagers to get up," Jessica laughed as she pulled the duvet off her sister.

"Come on!" Christopher demanded as she slapped Olivia's left buttock.

"Ow!" Olivia exclaimed as she rolled over and sat up in bed.

"Come on!" Christopher repeated as he pulled Olivia up off the warm bed and out in to a decidedly chilly landing.

Nika barked as soon as the kids came into sight, descending the stairs. Jasper grinned as two wideawake kids and one sleepy teen ventured into the living room. Olivia slumped down onto the sofa and tried to go back to sleep. Jessica ensured that Olivia stayed awake by prodding her big sister. Finally, Olivia sat up.

"Can I hurt her?" she asked of Jasper.

"No."

"Just a small broken bone, maybe?"

"No," Jasper chuckled.

"Presents, anyone?" Lynn asked.

Olivia was suddenly very much awake.

* * *

 ** _Beacon Croft_**

It had been a very late night, what with watching two major Star Wars movies.

A certain girl had wanted to watch a third, but Amy Montgomery had put her foot down and ordered the three children to bed. They were all very excited and more than a little tired. Kate had been giggling quite a bit as the two boys had told some very crude jokes and Amy had been speechless while her husband had actually joined in with some equally salty jokes which had had Kate blushing with embarrassment. Finally, the house had descended into calm as everybody fell asleep.

The next morning found Kate waking first, and she took great joy in dragging both boys out of their beds, dumping them both onto the floor. Kate simply laughed at them both as they lay there trying to figure out what had happened.

"Ha, fucking, ha!" Jordan exclaimed. "I'm legless with laughter."

"Not totally," Kate grinned.

Craig had gone in to wake his parents, only for his mother to burst into tears as she had hugged him tightly. The boy looked very confused until his father reminded him that it was the first time in four years that he had awoken his parents on Christmas Morning. Craig had trouble with his own tears, and he felt embarrassed as Kate gave him a hug.

"Don't feel ashamed for being human," she said.

"Thanks," Craig replied as he ran out the door. "Last one to the kitchen lays the table for breakfast!"

"Hey!" Jordan yelled as he struggled with his artificial leg. "No fair!"

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

The thirteen-year-old girl remained in bed for as long as she could help it.

She was so excited that she felt like she was going to wee herself. Somehow all of her willpower had vanished, and she could not keep still. She lay on her back. She lay on her front. She lay on her right side, and then the left. Nothing was comfortable, and she kept twisting and turning until she had got her legs well and truly caught up in the bottom sheet which she had managed to pull off the mattress. Finally, her struggling and cursing had resulted in her falling out of bed with a large bang.

Charlotte had grinned foolishly as Alexandra and Richard had burst in on her to find the girl in a decidedly humiliating position with her bottom in the air. Richard laughed loudly, and Charlotte felt her cheeks burning. But she giggled as she fought her way out from the twisted sheet and duvet. Finally, she found her feet and she gave Alexandra a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Alexandra."

"Merry Christmas, Charlotte."

"Got yourself in a right pickle there, didn't we," Richard chuckled. "Made a right Charlie of yourself."

Richard laughed at his pun as Charlotte rolled her eyes and gave him a hug.

"A very droll Merry Christmas, sir."

"Merry Christmas, Charlie."

"Strange having such a peaceful house," Alexandra commented. "Bet our daughter is having a lovely lie in."

"Dream on!" Richard guffawed.

* * *

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

It had taken the threat of the dreaded Taser to get the little monsters out of the bedroom.

Andrew and Cassie had been ambushed at 5 A.M. by two little girls and a boy who had been dragged into the girl's scheme. The barking dog had pushed things way beyond what Cassie was willing to tolerate. Nonetheless, the girls and boy had retreated, allowing peace to reign over the. . . Cassie sat up with a jolt.

"You have got to be fucking joking!" Cassie yelled as she saw the little hand on her bedside clock quivering onto the six.

"I'll deal with this," Andrew chuckled.

There was total pandemonium out on the landing as a certain dog was being encouraged to chase Kaitlin from one end to the other. For some reason known only to Kaitlin, the eight-year-old was scampering around on all fours, 'barking' at Sasha and winding him up. Naomi and Jake thought this was up roaringly funny and both were laughing at Kaitlin's antics. They never saw Andrew as he threw a pint glass of ice-cold water over Naomi and Jake. Both were soaked to the skin and they screamed at the sudden shock. Andrew grabbed hold of Kaitlin, scooping her off the floor, and he carried the still barking girl into the bathroom where he dumped her into the bath and then turned on the overhead shower to full – on cold.

Kaitlin shrieked as the cold water soaked her completely. Naomi and Jake came running, only to be unceremoniously grabbed and shoved under the very same shower as Kaitlin. Two more shrieks joined the first as Andrew added some hot water to the mix.

"That was so uncool," Kaitlin growled as she pulled off her sodden pyjamas.

"That was awesome!" Naomi laughed as she pulled off her own sodden night clothes.

"All's fair in war," Jake conceded as he too pulled off his equally sodden clothing.

All three naked kids rapidly left the bath as Sasha decided that he wanted a shower too. Cassie came out of the bedroom to catch sight of a naked boy and two naked girls as they ran back to their bedrooms – each dripping wet. Cassie laughed as Andrew appeared with a smug grin on his face.

"Well done," Cassie said as Andrew swept Cassie off her feet, kicking the door shut behind him.

"You are way overdressed, Cass," Andrew said as he kissed Cassie and pulled off her pyjamas.

* * *

 ** _London_**

Electra could not have been happier.

She had her Grandfather, her Father, and her Brother. She was being spoilt rotten, and for once, she was happy to allow it. She had awoken to breakfast in bed and an amazing pile of presents. It seemed that the men in her life had come together and arranged a very special present for the youngster. Each present was a separate component and ultimately made up the most amazing present ever.

The first present was long and thin, as were four identical packages. She pulled off the bright pink wrapping paper with little Father Christmas figures all over it, and her eyes went very wide as she saw what was inside. It was an empty magazine for an FN P90 Personal Defence Weapon (PDW). She ripped open the other identical presents to find four more identical magazines. The next present was much smaller, but as she ripped off the wrapping, she found a pair of smaller magazines, only she wasn't fooled, and her trained mind identified the twenty-round standard magazines for an FN Five-seveN pistol. The next, and final present produced a third twenty-round standard magazine and an extended thirty-round magazine for the same pistol.

Electra appeared confused as her Grandfather chuckled.

"I'd go look downstairs if I was you," he said.

Electra was gone in a blur of wrapping paper, her new acquisitions grasped against her chest as she ran down the stairs to the living room.

* * *

 ** _Auchenross_**

After a massive breakfast, Dakota had joined her adoptive family as a pile of presents was slowly dished out to each person present.

The girl was certain that Sinead was doing it on purpose and keeping Dakota's presents till last. Dakota was not expecting much, but she was shocked by the steadily growing pile beside her as more kept on coming. It took a lot less time to unwrap the gifts than it took to receive them. Twenty minutes later, Dakota was a little lost as she sat on the floor, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and a large array of gifts. She had a pair of brand new, very expensive walking boots from Sinead which Dakota recognised as being Royal Marines quality. Sinead's parents, Gerome and Beatrice had bought a huge array of outdoor clothing – all expensive and branded. Amongst the pile of the usual Christmas gifts, CDs and DVDs, there was also a laptop – from Hit Girl – and a set of training bokkens – also from Hit Girl. However, her most prized gift was in the kitchen – a brand new mountain bike worth over a thousand pounds.

Sinead grinned at the happy teenager. Dakota had made no secret of her love for cycling. It was something which had been encouraged by her instructors at _Urban Predator_ as a key keep-fit tool. Sinead had her own mountain bike and she intended on taking Dakota out into the wilderness of Scotland.

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

Olivia decided that it was a very different kind of Christmas.

The previous year, Jessica had been playing with My Little Pony themed items while she had been playing with her new phone as any twelve-year-old would. Instead of normal things like that, she, her sister, and her new brother were lying on the floor examining the most awesome Christmas presents ever.

Jasper and Lynn would have been in full agreement with the teenager. All three kids were busy taking apart their gifts and examining them in every minute detail. Each child had received a pistol set for Christmas, except for Olivia who had received a pair. They were SIG Sauer P320 Carry Tacops nine-millimetre pistols with threaded barrel, four twenty-one-round magazines, and Siglite night sites. For Jasper and Lynn, it was bliss as silence reigned while each pistol was stripped, checked, rechecked, checked again, reassembled – and then stripped again. Each youngster remembered each and every safety measure required to safely check their pistols. Each grip and slide were customised for the user. Olivia's pistols had blue and silver stripes. Jessica's pistol had magenta stripes. Christopher's pistol had deep orange stripes. Each had also been provided with a matching SRD9 pistol suppressor for their pistols and there was a clatter as Jessica figured out how to strip her suppressor and the internal baffles clattered onto the floor in a small heap.

"I just hope she knows how to put it back together again," Jasper quipped to his wife.

* * *

 ** _Beacon Croft_**

Kate had never seen so much good food in one place.

Amy was amazing in the kitchen and she had produced a marvel of a Christmas lunch. There was an enormous turkey which David had expertly carved. Kate's plate was piled high with slices of turkey, several chipolatas, a pile of roast potatoes, some sprouts – she could have gone without those hideous mini cabbages – roast parsnips, lashings of rich gravy, bread sauce, some cranberry sauce, and quite a bit of sage & onion stuffing. Everybody's plate was piled high, just the same, although Jordan appeared to be going way over the top with the roast potatoes. Craig was busy dishing out some Coke for him and Jordan when he reached for Kate's glass.

"Kate, you are almost seventeen," David said. "Would you like some wine with your meal?"

Kate was very surprised by the suggestion.

"Is that legal?"

"In this house, you can drink under supervision," David replied.

"What about me?" Craig asked indignantly.

"You are thirteen-years-old, son, so no," David chuckled.

"I'll try a bit," Kate decided, and she reached out for the offered glass of rosé wine.

She sniffed at it, thinking that it smelt not too bad before she placed the glass down on the table beside her.

"Everybody got a bit of everything?" Amy asked.

"Yes."

"Yep."

"Definitely."

"Dig in!" Amy ordered.

* * *

 **Blairhoyle**

Alexandra was as happy as she ever got.

Her house was teaming with laughter, and her family was all together for the very special day. Alexandra was in the kitchen, the sides covered with food in various states of preparation. The Aga was pumping out enormous amounts of heat as it cooked a massive turkey which had just, barely, squeezed through the oven door, several hours earlier.

"Honey, could you check the stuffing, please?"

Charlotte dutifully pulled open the relevant oven door and she stuck a knife into the sage & onion stuffing, then the sausage meat stuffing, and the awful-smelling prune stuffing.

"Coming along nicely – bit longer on the sage & onion, I think," Charlotte reported.

"Thank you. Have the girls laid the table properly?"

"I'll go check."

Charlotte headed around the corner into the formal dining room. The room was designed to comfortably seat fourteen people around the long wooden table. The fireplace had been laid and lit, warming the large room. The table was laid for thirteen and as Charlotte entered the room, she saw that laying the table was not going all that well.

"Excuse me!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Hi, Charlie!" Naomi called out.

"Hi, Charlie!" Kaitlin added.

"I had nothing to do with it," Harper admitted.

"I'm just an innocent observer," Diana threw in.

"It wasn't me, either," Jake tried.

Charlotte was not having any of it.

"Kaitlin, put the knives down. Naomi, nobody fights with spoons. Get the table laid, now, before I get angry – and you do _not_ want to see me when I am angry."

Kaitlin made to respond, but the look in the older girl's eyes made her think otherwise.

"Sorry," she said as she placed the two dinner knives back on the table and she went back to doing what she was supposed to be doing, laying out cutlery at each place.

"Just having a bit of fun," Naomi commented as she too went back to her assigned job placing mats on the table.

"Jake, you are the eldest; please keep the munchkins under control," Charlotte directed as she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Jake grinned. Harper scowled. Diana laughed.

..._...

"An officious young lady," Sarah chuckled as she watched the twelve-year-old breeze back into the kitchen.

All had heard Charlotte ordering the other kids about.

"She does seem to get the job done," Keira agreed before chuckling. "She also enjoys doing it."

"Your Mum is over the moon to have so many people here for Christmas, especially her two daughters," Richard commented.

"We're glad to be here," Cassie agreed.

"Thanks for inviting us," Blake said.

"Saves us from Cassie's cooking," Andrew chuckled.

"Hey!" Cassie exclaimed. "I'm better than Mindy."

* * *

 ** _London_**

Electra had managed to collate the rest of her presents and they were all arrayed before her.

There was a large black ABS case sitting open on the carpet, a foot away from the Christmas Tree. The ten-year-old sat before it, arranging her new acquisitions. Inside the case, there were two foam rubber inserts, one in the top section of the case, and the other in the bottom section. Into the upper section of the case, Electra pushed five, empty, fifty-round P90 magazines. In the lower half, she placed the disassembled body of her P90 PDW into the bottom section and the barrel with the attached grip and sight into a pre-cut slot above the main body. The relevant tools for repairs were also inserted into the case. Once done, she closed up the case and then laid another, similar but smaller, case atop the larger one.

Opening the smaller case, she began to fill the cut-outs inside. First inside went her brand-new FN Five-seveN pistol with the empty thirty-round magazine inserted in the butt. Next, there went the pair of empty twenty-round magazines with the final item being the suppressor for the pistol. Electra happily snapped the case closed and then simply sat there staring at the two cases of weapons.

"Do you think Mindy would approve?"

"Yes, Grandpa, she would."

* * *

 ** _Auchenross_**

"How's the food, Dakota?"

"Very good, thank you, sir."

Dakota was enjoying every mouthful; the food was better than anything she had ever tasted. In a way, she was finding it all a little overbearing. That morning, she and Sinead had gone for a walk and they had talked – actually, Dakota had talked, and Sinead had listened. It was not just her identity which Dakota was struggling with, there were other emotions inside her. She had spent a lot of her life defending herself. She had had to defend herself for being a person. She had had to defend herself for being a girl. She had had to defend herself just to survive. Suddenly, all that was gone. Despite having come to terms with no longer being Firebrand, there was still a problem. Her new life was so much different to that which had been all she had known. Somehow, she had to break away from her past and concentrate on her future.

Sinead had listened to the youngster's confusion. Dakota appeared to look up to her – maybe it was the fact that Sinead had never allowed her sex to get in the way of what she wanted to do or what she wanted to be. Sinead figured that Dakota was probably very much the same in that respect. Yes, Sinead was aware of Dakota's sexual orientation, but she had no problem with that, and as Dakota did not flaunt it, there was no reason for it to be publicised. The only other person their side of the Atlantic who knew was Charlotte, who could be trusted with the knowledge. Sinead had told both girls that she operated an open-door policy where either could talk to her at any time they wanted, about anything that they needed to talk about.

Sinead was unsure about the relationship she was to have with the Dakota. Would it be as sisters, or was Sinead interested in becoming a parent? Sinead had never put much time in worrying about a family – she did not even have a man; the dickheads she had dated were just that: dickheads, all of them. She refused to date a Royal Marine which kind of limited what men she happened to come in contact with, and therefore relationships. At the rate she was going, she might have to do the unthinkable and go out with somebody from the R.A.F. – she had shuddered at the mere thought. As she watched Dakota giggling at her father's rather droll jokes, Sinead was very happy that the fourteen-year-old had come to live with her. Her parents had held reservations, but they had warmed to the girl. Sinead's mother had commented that it was nice to have a normal teenager in the house for a change.

Dakota had enjoyed that, much to Sinead's annoyance.

* * *

 ** _Moss-Side Hall_**

Olivia figured that Jasper had simply drunk too much sherry before lunch or maybe he was just drunk on Christmas spirit, either way, his jokes were almost as bad as the pathetic excuses from the crackers which Jessica thought were so funny.

Everybody spent time laughing and joking, so much that the food was taking forever to be eaten – not that anybody was bothered. Although, Olivia figured that she would need to do a lot of exercise after Christmas to get rid of the extra pounds she as adding onto her body with every mouthful. She missed her own family, but she had a new life and she had suffered a lot to get to where she was at that moment. She had a family who loved her – and she had the most adorable boyfriend ever. They had talked for forty minutes, earlier that morning, and Olivia yearned for his touch on her. . .

"You want more potatoes, Olivia?" Lynn asked.

"Looking at her face, I think she'll take a chipolata and two small potatoes," Jessica quipped before descending into a fit of giggles with Christopher.

Olivia's cheeks went bright red as Jasper laughed out loud.

"That is _so_ not funny," Olivia growled.

"Yes, it is!" Lynn laughed.

* * *

 ** _Southfield Letham_**

Amber began to warm to the Christmas spirit during lunch.

Everybody, even Scarlett, did their best to involve the girl, but to some extent, she was not having it. However, Amber was very happy with her main Christmas present. Both girls had each received a cutting-edge laptop from Hit Girl. Amber's devious mind was already racing as she planned out what she would use her laptop for. She was not stupid, so she had already figured out that everything she did with the laptop would be monitored, but she was already working out a way around any monitoring.

Scarlett's mind was not operating on a devious wavelength, however. The girl was enjoying herself. She had spent half an hour crying to herself, earlier that day. She had been crying over her father, but then she had told herself to stop as the bastard did not deserve her tears. She had even given Natasha a big hug soon after, surprising the girl immensely. Natasha took it as what it was, and she had returned the hug. Cameron had gone out of his way to have both girls laughing which was a struggle with Amber, but he managed it. Nobody could resist Cameron's jokes which tended to be varied, politically incorrect, and often crude. Amber appeared to like jokes which were built around humiliation, pain, and cruelty. That fact Natasha had picked up on, very quickly. It was a trait which, while not being especially surprising, _was_ rather worrying.

Natasha was keeping a good eye on the two girls, observing their moods and temperaments in different situations. She was taking nothing for granted, and while Scarlett was doing well, that could all be a masquerade with Amber being the genuine article who could be trusted one hundred per cent. It was difficult, but Natasha was not about to allow _Vengeance_ to be betrayed even once more. They had allowed Scarlett into their secret world because they trusted her – to a point. Amber was an unknown and nobody had yet cracked what was going on in the mind of the twelve-year-old.

However, that same mind would receive a bullet from Natasha's pistol, should she dare to betray any of them – a fate which would apply in equal amounts to Scarlett as well.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Kaitlin was getting concerned that her stomach might explode.

The youngster had put away an enormous portion of turkey, with all the trimmings, and maybe a bit too much sage & onion stuffing. Copious amounts of fizzy juice – mainly Irn Bru, but some Coke too – had washed down the delicious lunch which Alexandra and Charlotte had put together. For the youngsters, it was an amazing time to unwind, joke, and eat – eating was by far the favourite pastime for Naomi, Kaitlin, Harper, Diana, Jake, and Charlotte. Considering the junior company, the jokes became very crude, and decidedly salty – with the assistance of Captain and Lieutenant Perrin, not to mention Lieutenant Commanders Blake and Sharp. Alexandra tolerated the crude behaviour, mainly because she was used to it after many years of being a naval wife, but also because her family was together – which was a rarity, to say the least. As for Cassie and Andrew, they loved the light-hearted atmosphere and they spent a lot of time chatting and trying to control their three children who were basically out of control – as was he four-legged Sasha, who was under the table, getting in the way.

It was time for the dessert course. Alexandra and Cassie vanished into the kitchen while Charlotte pressganged Jake and Naomi (under threat of pain) to assist with clearing the table of all traces remaining from the main course. Jake returned with an armful of bowls which were placed before Alexandra's seat, at the kitchen end of the large dining table. Richard rose to place another log on the fire while Andrew went around topping up the adult's wine glasses. Kaitlin and Harper were trying to freak out Diana with cruder and cruder jokes, however, Sarah whispered something into Harper's ear and the girl looked horrified. Sarah repeated a revised version of the joke for Kaitlin who looked equally horrified. Sarah grinned at Diana as she sat back down again. Diana mouthed a 'thank you' to her saviour. While Diana was getting used to Harper's salty language, some of the jokes were just – well – sick. Then the pudding arrived.

"Quiet!" Charlotte bellowed, and everybody sat up sharply.

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Richard chuckled as he sat at attention.

Charlotte grinned as she flipped off the overhead lights. Alexandra came in, and she placed a massive Christmas pudding down on a large mat. There was a large sprig of real holly in the top and it smelt divine. Cassie and Charlotte placed several items on the table – rum butter and brandy sauce. Then, Charlotte handed Cassie a box of matches, and Alexandra a bottle of expensive cognac. The cognac was poured – liberally – over the pudding with a small amount poured into a spoon which had been nestling in hot water. The cognac warmed up smartly before Cassie struck a match and lit the spoonful of flammable alcohol. The burning liquid was poured over the pudding which spontaneously burst into blue flames.

The children were all speechless as they gazed at the flickering blue flames which caressed the enormous pudding.

* * *

 ** _London_**

Electra lay on a sofa, cradling her sore tummy.

"You always were a big eater, Electra," her father chuckled.

"I haven't eaten so well in a long time, Daddy – that was wonderful."

"You lay there and rest, honey."

"Love you, Daddy."

"You want some chocolate?" her brother, Simon asked.

"I'll explode if I eat another thing."

"A wafer-thin mint, Electra?"

"No."

"It's only wafer-thin?"

"No."

"Just one?"

"You trying to _make_ me explode, Simon?"

"Just teasing."

"Want to watch a movie?" Electra asked.

"Not something girly."

"How about something easy on the eyes," Electra commented as she perused her father's DVD collection. "How about this one?"

Fourteen-year-old Simon studied the DVD case which his ten-year-old sister was holding up. He raised an eyebrow – it was barely what _he_ might watch, let alone his baby sister. He shook his head, knowing that the Electra standing before him was no longer the innocent little girl he had once known.

"Okay," he conceded, and he sat down as Electra placed the disc into the DVD player.

"What are we watching?" his father asked.

Simon pointed at the DVD case.

"Not exactly Christmassy."

"She picked it."

"Okay."

Patrick came in and he sat down, picking up the DVD case as he did so.

"Really, Edward?"

"She picked it," Edward responded defensively.

"You got a problem, Grandpa?" Electra asked pointedly.

"No, sweetie," Patrick chuckled. "Why shouldn't a _Predator_ watch Predator."

"Just what I thought," Electra said as she joined the three males on the sofa. "Let me know if any of you wimps get scared."

* * *

 ** _Auchenross_**

It was Sinead who was feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

Dakota was feeling very bloated, herself, but not to the same extent as Sinead who had kept eating and eating. Despite her appetite, Sinead was a beanpole and her body was mostly muscle. Dakota was very happy to gloat while her mentor groaned as she stretched out on a couch.

"I did warn you, honey," Sinead's mother chuckled as she settled down for the afternoon movie. "Have you seen this movie before, Dakota?"

"Just bits," Dakota replied.

"Me too," Beatrice said.

"What are we watching?" Sinead asked.

"The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring," Dakota read from the TV guide.

"Cool!"

* * *

 ** _Beacon Croft_**

Kate had had a little too much wine and she was fast asleep on the couch in the living room.

Jordan was having an animated conversation with David while Amy sat reading her book and enjoying a cup of tea. As for Craig, he was on the phone with his girl.

"Kate's pissed as a fucking newt – Dad gave her some wine . . . then she asked for more."

 _"How many glasses did she have?"_ Olivia asked.

"Two," Craig replied.

 _"Lightweight!"_

"You get giggly after two cans of Irn Bru," Craig pointed out.

 _"Funny!"_

"Do you fancy some err . . . you know?"

 _"I'm naked right now,"_ Olivia responded seductively.

Craig grinned hugely as he felt movement in his trousers.

"Err, Mum, Dad – I'm off upstairs," Craig said.

"Better take a box of tissues, son," David chuckled as he threw a box at his son."

Jordan roared with laughter as the red-faced Craig bolted out of the living room.

* * *

 ** _Lasswade Road_**

It was the best Christmas ever, for them all.

For Jeremy, he had his mother back and they were a family. For Ewan, he had a family for the first time in years. He had long given up any thought of ever being free and being able to enjoy a normal life. Before leaving the United States, Ewan had spoken with Lucy, Sarah, and Shannon. They had each explained that he, like them, would always be a _Predator_. The memories and the urges would probably be with him until the day he died. However, what happened before then, was up to him. Ewan was getting closer to his fifteenth birthday and he had to decide what he wanted out of life. For the moment, he just wanted to live. He wanted to try and make up for the missing years. For that part, Jeremy had been doing his utmost, along with his father, to provide Ewan with as normal a life as they could give.

Ewan knew that Trevor was a British Army officer, and that was something which appealed to the boy, however, he had no idea if the Army would accept somebody like him. Ewan was certain that they would be aware of what he was and that would probably go against him. Only time would tell. Ewan was just going to have to live for the moment and take each day as it came and try to make the best of it. As the boy lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he tried to think of a time when he had been as happy as he was – he could not remember any moment when he had been happier.

Maybe 2017 was going to be a special year for him, and for his new friends.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

It was very late by the time everybody went home.

Richard and Alexandra were sitting down on a sofa, watching TV and in Richard's case, dozing for a few minutes. Charlotte was sitting on the floor, her new laptop in her lap. She was unbelievably happy after the most perfect day ever.

"Was today fun, or what?" Sarah asked as she flopped down in a vacant chair.

Her father grunted something and went back to his dozing while Alexandra nodded tiredly.

"Thank you for giving me such a fabulous day," Charlotte said to everybody.

"You are very welcome, young lady," Richard said as he awoke from his doze.

"You get real words!" Sarah grumped.

"Thank you for all your help in the kitchen, today, Charlotte," Alexandra said. "It was very much appreciated, and you kept those little varmints of Cassie's in line."

"That was fun," Charlotte admitted.

* * *

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

To say that Cassie was shocked would have been a major understatement.

"I'm tired. Can I go to bed, please?"

Cassie thought that she had misheard. Kaitlin was _admitting_ that she was tired? Was Kaitlin _asking_ to go to bed? Kaitlin actually said 'please'!

"Of course, honey."

Kaitlin gave Cassie a big hug and a kiss before repeating the exercise with Andrew.

"Night!" the little girl called out as she scampered off up the stairs with Sasha close behind.

"What about you two?" Cassie asked.

"Knackered," Naomi admitted as she gave Cassie then Andrew hugs and kisses. "Night.

"Thanks for everything," Jake said. "Night, guys."

The boy gave Cassie a hug before he followed the girls up the stairs.

"A successful day," Cassie said.

"Peace and quiet," Andrew grinned.

"You up for some?" Cassie asked leadingly.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Once everything was locked up, Cassie followed Andrew upstairs to their bedroom. Cassie stripped off her clothing and she lay on the bed, grinning up at Andrew as he pulled off his own clothes.

"Night!" Kaitlin bellowed, just as Andrew lay down atop his fiancé.

"Night!" Naomi responded, just as loudly.

"Night!" Jake shouted back,

"Woof!" Sasha threw in.

"Night!" Andrew called out.

"Night!" Cassie called before she began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Please fuck quietly, Cassie!" Kaitlin shouted out and Naomi could be heard giggling hard.

"I'll just go lock the door," Andrew suggested.


	63. Trouble For Charlotte

**_Monday, December 26th, 2016  
Boxing Day_**

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

"Wake up!"

Kaitlin growled; she was tired. Then the little girl's duvet was ripped off her and she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. She glared at the grinning face of Cassie.

"I'm tired."

"Don't care! People will start to arrive in a couple of hours. We have a lot to do."

Kaitlin rolled out of bed and she slunk to the bathroom.

..._...

Forty minutes later, Kaitlin, Naomi, and Jake were finishing off their breakfast.

Andrew appeared a few minutes later with Sasha having just taken the large dog for a walk. Andrew was shivering with the cold.

"It's ruddy freezing out there!" he exclaimed as he warmed up beside the Aga. "You guys all look happy."

" _She_ pulled us out of our nice warm beds!" Naomi growled with a glower in Cassie's direction.

"It was time to get up," Cassie offered unrepentantly as she smiled at the three tired youngsters. "Right – if you've finished: bowls in the dishwasher, go get dressed – clean underwear, Kaitlin – please dress smartly as we have guests arriving in about an hour."

"Can I take a shower?" Jake asked.

"If you can be quick."

"Oh, yeah," Naomi grinned. "Charlotte's coming!"

"I like her is all – we're not an item; that would just be weird."

..._...

Cassie was becoming more and more frustrated as the time wore on.

Naomi understood why – it was the first time that Cassie had hosted an event with so many people, and she wanted it to be perfect as all of her friends and some of her family would be present. Due to the numbers coming to visit (and stay overnight), there would be no formal sit-down meal. So far, there would be nine adults, seventeen children . . . and two dogs. The living room and the dining room had been rearranged. The dining room would be set up as a buffet so that everybody could help themselves (Jake and Kaitlin had been warned not to eat everything). The living room had plenty of chairs arranged so that most could sit down with an overflow into the kitchen.

At around eleven o'clock, people began to arrive. Cassie rushed off to see who it was while Jake was left keeping an eye on the food which was steadily cooking.

"Cassie!" Charlotte exclaimed as she and Sarah came in the door.

Cassie was almost bowled over by the excited twelve-year-old who quickly let go and ran through to see Kaitlin and Naomi.

"She's a little excited," Sarah pointed out unnecessarily as she hugged her little sister.

"I noticed," Cassie laughed as she heard all the excited chatter in the living room.

It wasn't like they had been apart for long – it had only been the previous evening when they had last talked. By the time Sarah and Cassie had finished their introductions, Charlotte was giving Jake a hug in the kitchen.

"Charlotte would you help me in the kitchen, honey?" Cassie asked as she sent Jake through to the living room, so he could annoy the younger girls and Sarah.

Andrew appeared, and he gave his future sister-in-law a big hug.

"Hi, Andrew," Sarah hissed through squeezed ribs.

"Hello, Sarah."

..._...

Cassie was very grateful for Charlotte's assistance – she had the kids under control in no time, and Cassie's mood eased immensely as Charlotte took over the food preparation.

More people began to arrive, Sinead with Dakota in tow came first, followed by Keira, Blake, an excited Diana and the decidedly talkative Harper. The adults abandoned the kids who all vanished up the stairs while they remained in the living room enjoying polite conversation without the constant interruptions of the younger human variety. Last to arrive were Natasha, Cameron, and Eric, all of whom had suffered enormously to bring the final load of young people: Scarlett, Amber, Christopher, Olivia, Jessica, Craig, Jordan, Kate, Jeremy, and Ewan. They had also brought Nika along, much to Sasha's delight and both canines quickly retired to a corner of the living room to chat. There was the resonating thunder of hooves and a hoard of animals thundered down the stairs to join the latest batch of similarly hyperactive animals who had just arrived.

Apparently, Craig and Olivia had been forced to travel in separate vehicles, so the moment they were together again. . .

"That is _so_ disgusting!" Jessica exclaimed as her big sister was pushed up against a wall by Craig.

* * *

 **Blairhoyle**

The missing adults had opted for a polite, well-mannered Boxing Day lunch.

As such, Richard and Alexandra were joined by Jasper and Lynn, David and Amy, plus Trevor and Kensi. They all arrived at roughly the same time and Richard passed out drinks to all.

"Listen to that?" Lynn said.

"Listen to what?" David asked.

"Exactly," Lynn pointed in.

"No kids!" Amy laughed. "We all love them dearly, but it is so good to have some time away from the little angels."

"You have angels?" Jasper inquired to general laughter.

* * *

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

"Rabid."

"Undomesticated."

"Feral."

Keira had challenged the other adults to come up with one-word descriptions for the noisy creatures that were stuffing their faces and shouting at the same time.

"Bestial?" Blake suggested.

"Good one!" Cameron laughed.

"Truculent," Sarah threw in.

"Destructive."

"Barbaric."

"Callous."

"Rancorous," Cassie added.

"Isn't that something from Return of The Jedi?" Andrew asked.

"The Rancor?" Cassie asked.

"Yeah."

"I suppose Olivia does look bad first thing in the morning," Natasha chuckled.

"So not funny!" thirteen-year-old Olivia Kensington scowled as she walked past the laughing adults.

..._...

For once, Amber was actually joining in with the others.

She had piled a plate full of food, before sitting down alongside Diana. Nobody quite knew what to make of Amber as she kept herself to herself. Diana, of course, wanted to be friends with just about everyone, and Amber had decided that it was simpler to let Diana have her way than try to fight it – that had been Harper's advice. Diana was probing those she did not know well, wanting to know their story. Harper had warned Diana not to pry into other people's past lives, but Diana craved knowledge of any type and she simply wanted to be friendly. Amber, however, she enjoyed being alone, but she figured that that was not going to be allowed and the twelve-year-old was allowing Scarlett to guide her – to a point.

As she dug into her plate of food, trying to listen to parts of Diana's constant chattering – how the girl actually managed to eat, Amber couldn't fathom – Amber noticed that she was being studied from afar. She looked up to find Kaitlin examining her. The eight-year-old tended to freak Amber out. She was simply not a normal child, to Amber's thinking, and neither were her friends. Harper appeared to have fought a minor war – and lost. Where she could have gained such injuries without being hauled off by Social Services, Amber had no idea. She could not stand that Olivia girl – she was always snogging the boy, Craig . . . slut! Amber was watching everybody and taking in what she saw, and mentally noting down her thoughts on each person. Sarah and Cassie were sisters, as were Harper and Keira. The new boy, Jake – he was nice . . . ewww! Amber had no time for boys, although parts of her had other ideas which creeped her out. Amber had not had much contact with boys as she grew up, so they were a total mystery to the girl.

"Come on, Amber: smile!" Scarlett suggested.

Amber smiled and she decided that it was no great loss.

..._...

After stuffing their faces with their main course, the kids, with their insatiable appetites, moved straight onto pudding.

Finally, there was quiet as the kid's mouths were crammed with Christmas Pudding, and a host of other sweet, unhealthy specialities. Even those normally able to talk while they ate were not using their special ability, deciding instead to simply enjoy the food arrayed before them. Naturally, Olivia was giggling almost continuously while Craig whispered sweet nothings in her ear as she ate. Pretty much everybody ignored the two lovebirds – most thought it was disgusting.

"Those two are putting me off my food," Kaitlin grumbled as she shovelled food into her mouth.

"You have a valid point," Jessica grinned. "For once."

"I am full of wonders," Kaitlin replied. "Don't be fooled by the little girl exterior."

Naomi burst out laughing, almost spraying her pudding across the room. Kaitlin simply scowled at Naomi. Cassie raised an eyebrow at her youngest daughter's profound comment and chuckled. Kaitlin was right – the little girl was full of wonders; some of them rather undesirable, but Cassie would have her no other way. Naomi was a very different girl, but she had her own wonders, just like Kaitlin. For her first family gathering in her new home, Cassie was very pleased with the result. For the very first time, she felt complete. She had her perfect home, she had her husband-to-be, and she had three amazing youngsters as her children.

Not bad for a young twenty-year-old woman, she thought.

* * *

 ** _That evening_**

There was more chaos.

Maybe a sleepover had not been the best idea, but it was happening. The plan had hung loosely around the older children acting in a mature fashion and helping to keep the younger children under control. Cassie figured that had gone out of the window the moment she saw thirteen-year-old Olivia Kensington streaking across the landing as she ran between Naomi's and Kaitlin's bedrooms. She was closely followed by an equally naked almost thirteen-year-old Charlotte and the naked almost-twelve-year-old Jessica Kensington. Christopher, Ewan, Jake, Jeremy, Craig, and Jordan were laughing their heads off at the girls' antics while Harper, Scarlett, and Diana were winding up Nika and Sasha, causing the two canines to bark loudly. Not surprisingly, Kaitlin was also naked, as was Naomi.

Why, Cassie did _not_ want to know!

..._...

"They naked?" Andrew asked.

"Take one guess!" Cassie grinned.

"They are what they are, I suppose," Keira reasoned. "They find fun in ways that seem outrageous and strange to us."

"Even Olivia?" Sinead asked.

"She went through a lot, that girl," Cassie admitted with a grin. "To be honest, I think she's part _Predator_ now."

"I would agree," Sarah commented. "She's gone wild, just like my nieces."

"A bunch of psychotic animals, if you ask me," Eric grinned.

Everybody laughed.

"Adds a bit of excitement to life," Cameron commented.

"That, it does," Natasha agreed.

"Anybody for another beer?" Andrew asked as he got up from his chair and headed into the kitchen.

..._...

"Why are they all so strange?"

"They are what they are, Amber," Kate replied.

"Everybody is entitled to a little fun," Dakota conceded. "Even if naked."

"It's obscene," Amber continued. "Why would anybody want to run around naked all the time – it's not like anybody is forcing them to put themselves on display. Kaitlin is weird, so I kind of expect her to behave weirdly, I suppose, but Olivia is thirteen and she should know better than to show off her tits to everybody."

Kate laughed.

"Just 'cause you don't have any tits," Dakota suggested.

"You saying I'm too chicken to streak?" Amber scowled.

"I never said anything," Kate stated.

"I dare you to strip and go kiss Sasha," Dakota challenged.

Amber glared at Dakota for a moment before she pulled off her pyjamas and stood before the other two girls, completely naked in Naomi's bedroom. The twelve-year-old took a deep breath and she bolted from the room in search of Sasha.

"What are you doing, Amber?" Scarlett demanded as the girl ran past completely naked.

"Showing that she isn't a chicken," Dakota grinned.

"That girl is _so_ strange!" Scarlett commented.

Meanwhile, Amber, her face scarlet, ran into Kaitlin's bedroom where she found Sasha being stroked by the now dressed Kaitlin and Jake. Amber ignored the other kids in the room as she grabbed Sasha's head and kissed him on the nose. There was laughter from the doorway as Scarlett, Dakota, and Kate watched Amber.

"Happy?" Amber demanded.

"Yeah!" Dakota laughed.

Amber vanished from sight and a door was heard to slam at the opposite end of the landing.

..._...

"Are you nuts?" Scarlett asked as Amber sat on her sleeping bag, having pulled on her pyjamas.

"Definitely, to pull a stunt like that," Amber replied.

"I didn't think you had it in you."

"Neither, did I."

"It _was_ funny, though," Scarlett grinned. "It was the first time I've seen you in the buff."

"And the last."

"Live a little, Amber – you'll enjoy life more that way," Scarlett advised.

"We'll see," Amber replied as she climbed into her sleeping bag. "I'm tired – night."

"Night, Amber."

..._...

Scarlett headed out to see what the others were up to.

She found the girls laughing – mostly about Amber – but other things too. There was also some entertainment, too. Charlotte was showing off her dancing skills – which were not half bad, Scarlett thought. Apparently, she was dancing to one of her favourite songs – a Sia track – which Scarlett recognised, and they were part way through:

 _Here comes the shame, here comes the shame_

Everybody cheered as Charlotte executed a perfect forward splits.

"She's flexible!" Diana noted as Charlotte continued to dance.

 _One, two, three, one, two, three, drink  
One, two, three, one, two, three, drink  
One, two, three, one, two, three, drink_

 _Throw em back till I lose count_

Charlotte then demonstrated how good a dancer she really was as she continued to dance along with the track.

 _I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier_

There was another rousing cheer as Charlotte completed an amazing front aerial somersault without her hands touching the floor – a remarkable feat of flexibility and skill.

 _I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist  
Like it doesn't exist  
I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry  
I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier_

The cheering when Charlotte finally finished her dance routine was loud enough that Cassie and Keira came up the stairs to order everybody to bed.

"That includes you, Diana," Keira said as Diana pretended to ignore the order.

Harper hauled Diana out of Jake's bedroom and pushed her towards Kaitlin's bedroom where they were both sleeping that night.

"Boys!" Cassie yelled. "In Jake's bedroom and nowhere else!"

"Olivia and the other girls will have to settle with playing with themselves," Keira added. "Or each other."

"Ewww!" Harper exclaimed.

"So gross!" Diana called out.

"I'd pay to watch a bit of that," Craig commented.

"Me, too," Jordan added.

"Dirty bastards!" Kate growled as she stalked off to her allocated bedroom.

"Just remember to wash those fingers in the morning, Katie," Jordan called out.

Kate turned, and she raised a fist, but Keira swept the girl away and towards the bedroom.

"Boys!" she yelled.

..._...

When it was finally time for the adults to sleep – the women got the bedroom upstairs while the men slept down in the living room.

As Cassie and Keira headed up the stairs, behind Sarah, Sinead, and Natasha, they looked into each bedroom in turn. Everyone was in bed, with some fast asleep, while others whispered and giggled quietly. Kaitlin came running out of her bedroom when she heard Cassie muttering to Keira. The eight-year-old wrapped her arms around Cassie's waist and squeezed with all her strength.

"Thanks for today, Mum – love you."

With that, Kaitlin vanished back into her bedroom, squeezing into bed with Naomi and Jessica while Harper and Diana slept on the floor in sleeping bags.

"Night, girls," Keira said, and she saw Harper and Diana grinning happily.

"Night!" Harper replied.

"Night, Keira," Diana added.

"Night, Mom!" Naomi called out.

Jessica was already asleep, so she said nothing. The next stop was Naomi's room with the older girls. Dakota and Kate were sharing the bed while Olivia, Charlotte, Scarlett, and Amber slept on the floor in sleeping bags. There was giggling going on between Dakota and Kate while all, but Charlotte, were fast asleep.

"Night, girls," Cassie called out.

"Night!" the three girls replied.

The final stop was Jake's bedroom. Before they even opened the door, Keira could hear the immature laughter expected of a bunch of adolescent boys. The room was fairly full, what with four boys stretched out on the floor in their sleeping bags and Jake in the bed on his own. Apparently, none of the boys felt like sharing with Jake.

"Get some sleep, please, boys," Keira directed.

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Jake called out to general laughter.

"Night, Jake," Cassie laughed.

..._...

Cassie and Sarah were sharing the bed while Keira, Sinead, and Natasha were on the floor in sleeping bags.

As far as they were concerned, adult or not, they were going to have a fun sleepover. As such, Sinead started things off.

"Okay, I'll begin, we tell one each, and we'll see has the best joke. Why shouldn't you let a man's mind wander?" Sinead paused for a few seconds. "Because it's way too little to be out all alone!"

Once the laughter had died down, Keira took over.

"What's the difference between a knife and an argumentative man?" she said before pausing. "A knife has a point."

The girls were getting into the spirit of things as Natasha thought one up.

"Not bad, Keira," she said. "Why did God make Adam before Eve?"

"No idea," Sinead said.

"Everyone needs a rough draft before they make the final copy," Natasha responded.

The laughter was getting louder, so Cassie piped up.

"Pipe down, guys – you'll wake the little shits," she warned. "My turn: Men are like snowstorms . . . you never know when he's cumming, how many inches you'll get, or how long he will last."

That joke went down well, then Sarah took a turn.

"A tough looking group of hairy bikers are riding down a road when they see a girl about to jump off a bridge, so they stop. The leader, a big burly man, gets off his bike and he asks, 'What are you doing?' The woman responds, 'I am going to commit suicide.' While the biker does not want to appear insensitive, he also does not want to miss an opportunity, so he asks, 'Well, before you jump, why don't you give me a kiss?" After a moment's thought, she does, and it is a long, deep, lingering kiss. After she's finished, the tough, hairy biker says, 'Wow! That was the best kiss I've ever had! That's a real talent you're wasting; you could be famous. Why are you committing suicide?' The girl grimaces as she responds, 'My parents don't like me dressing up like a girl. . .'"

There was a pause while everybody digested the joke and then there was loud raucous laughter from each person present.

"Sarah wins," Sinead decided.

..._...

Down in the living room, Andrew, Blake, Cameron, and Eric were casually chatting as they lay in their sleeping bags.

"Hey!" Eric said. "I've got a joke: As an airplane is about to crash, a female passenger jumps up frantically and announces, 'If I'm going to die, I want to die feeling like a woman.' She removes all her clothing and asks, 'Is there someone on this plane who is man enough to make me feel like a woman?' A man stands up, removes his shirt and says, 'Here, iron this!'

"Don't say that with Cassie around," Andrew said as he laughed. "She'll cause you great pain. I made the mistake of telling one of those jokes and I couldn't feel my left shoulder for an hour."

"What joke was it?" Blake asked.

"Okay. Is Google male or female?"

"No idea," Eric replied.

"Female, because it doesn't let you finish a sentence before making a suggestion," Andrew replied to general laughter.

"Okay," Blake said. "Try this one on for size: A boy asks his dad, 'What's the difference between potential and realistic?' His dad tells him to go ask the rest of his family if they'd sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars, and then he would tell him the answer. The boy goes up to his mum and asks her. She responds, 'A million dollars is a lot of money, sweetheart. I could send you, your sister, and your brother to great colleges, so sure, I would.' He then goes and asks his sister to which she replies, 'Brad Pitt? Hell yeah; he's the hottest guy ever!' Next, the boy asks his brother who replies, 'A million dollars? Hell, yes, I would; I'd be rich.' When the boy excitedly returns to his dad with the family's responses, the dad explains, 'Well son, potentially, we have three million dollars. Realistically, we have two sluts and a queer.'"

After some laughter, Cameron came up with _his_ joke.

"A man escapes from prison where he has been for a long stretch. He finds a house, and he breaks into it looking for money and guns. Inside, he finds a young couple in bed. He orders the guy out of bed and ties him to a chair. He ties the girl to the bed and he gets on top of her, kisses her neck, and then gets up and goes into the bathroom. While he is in there, the husband tells his wife, 'Listen, this guy is an escaped convict; look at his clothes. He probably spent lots of time in jail and he hasn't seen a woman in years. I saw how he kissed your neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't complain, just do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is probably very dangerous and if he gets angry, he'll kill us. Be strong, honey; I love you.' His wife responds, 'He wasn't kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me he was gay, thought you were cute, and he asked me if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong honey; I love you, too.'"

The laughter echoed up the stairs.

..._...

"Okay," Sarah said. "How about an embarrassing story?"

"Sounds good," Sinead responded. "What is it about?"

"Cassandra's first period."

"No, fucking way, Sarah!" Cassie exclaimed, poking her big sister in the side.

Sarah ignored her little sister and began the story.

"Let's see – a little over seven years ago, Cassandra was about three weeks shy of her thirteenth birthday. I was fifteen and, to be honest, I found my little sister to be an annoying hindrance. However, puberty had not been easy for her, and I didn't really help her out much. I did intervene at school when boys teased her, but only when I felt like it. I wasn't the nicest big sister and Cassandra stayed at arm's length unless she felt like bugging the hell out of me. Well, one night, I was awoken by my little sister climbing into my bed – she was crying, so I allowed it . . . she was my sister, after all, and I did love her. Well, a few hours later, I awoke to find something not feeling right and when I put my hand down the bed, it came back wet. I threw back the duvet and turned on the light. My sheets were red, and my pyjamas were soaked in what could only be period blood – it wasn't mine; I wasn't due for another couple of weeks, and I didn't think that Cassandra had started her periods. To be honest, she barely had any breasts and her pubic hair was abysmal."

"Was not!" Cassandra interrupted.

"Please, most _boys_ had bigger boobs than you," Sarah teased. "Still a bit small, to be honest! Anyway – I woke up the sleeping Cassandra and I told her to check herself. She screamed when she pushed down her pyjama bottoms and she found her groin and thighs covered in blood. She began to sob, and it took me several minutes to calm her down and explain what it was. Mum then appeared, and she took Cassandra away for a shower, and she told me to get my bed cleaned up. I felt sorry for my little sister, but only so far."

"Yeah, she teased the fuck out of me for weeks afterwards," Cassie growled.

"I'll tell you the story about her first tampon another night," Sarah chuckled.

The other women present laughed as Cassie just scowled into the darkness.

* * *

 ** _Two days later  
Wednesday, December 28th_**

 ** _Dreadnought House_**

Everything was getting back to normal.

Christmas was over, and everybody was preparing for the upcoming New Year celebrations. Cassie had enjoyed the entertaining, but it had been exhausting. While 'normal' in her household was entirely relative, it was _her_ normal, and she loved it. As she walked into the kitchen, that morning, she found Kaitlin, wearing only her pyjama bottoms, digging into an overflowing bowl of Coco Pops – just like most mornings. Next to appear was a scruffy-looking Naomi, yawning madly as she sat down at the table. After a few moments, the nine-year-old stood up and she grabbed a bowl, a spoon, and the box of Weetabix. Somehow, despite her semi-dazed state, Naomi managed to place three Weetabix into her bowl, several scoops of sugar, and then drown them with copious amounts of milk – not to mention leaving milk, bits of Weetabix, and some sugar scattered across the table top. There was very little chatter as the two girls concentrated on their cereal. Cassie made herself a mug of tea, placing a mug down for each of the two girls.

For breakfast, Cassie opted for toast as usual, and she cut two thick slices from the loaf of wholemeal bread before she dropped the slices into the toaster and pushed down the lever. As she reached into a cupboard for the marmalade, Jake and Andrew slunk into the kitchen. Andrew went straight to the kettle and he made two mugs of tea, one for him, and one for the tired boy who stood beside him. Nobody in the household was good first thing in the morning – not even Cassie. Sasha lay on the floor under the table, awaiting any fallen scraps, and he was snoring. It took a further forty minutes for life to gradually return to them all and that was when the tranquil silence was broken as Kaitlin dropped her spoon noisily into her empty cereal bowl and she bolted for the door. Cassie caught her as she went, grabbing the eight-year-old around the stomach.

"What's the hurry?" Cassie asked.

"I have things to do, and I don't want to miss a minute of the day," Kaitlin replied.

"Bowl – dishwasher," Cassie reminded the youngster.

"Okay!" Kaitlin groaned as she reluctantly executed the highly difficult task of placing one mug, one bowl, and one spoon into the dishwasher.

"Children!" Naomi commented as she placed her own items into the dishwasher without being asked.

Kaitlin scowled and ran out of the kitchen, closely followed by Naomi. Cassie could hear the two girls bickering over something and she chuckled.

"Can I take Sasha for a walk, please?" Jake asked as he placed his dirty items into the dishwasher.

Sasha appeared from under the table, suddenly wide awake with his tail wagging.

"Of course," Cassie replied, and Jake vanished with Sasha running after the boy.

"Life is fun around here," Andrew chuckled as he gave his wife-to-be a hug.

"Yes, it is," Cassie replied as she enjoyed the hug.

Life was good.

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Alexandra was enjoying another pleasant, but chilly, morning.

She strolled outside, enjoying the chilly air and the peace that their countryside home provided. However, she paused as she heard feet pounding towards her and she turned to see Charlotte come to a very rapid halt next to her. The girl was grinning excitedly, and she was obviously buzzing to ask something.

"You have something to ask, Charlie?" Alexandra asked.

"How did you know?" Charlotte asked.

"Please – I have brought up two girls, already."

"Okay. I need to ask a favour, Alexandra. Some of the girls from school are going out, Thursday afternoon and into the evening . . . I'd like to go out with them . . . it's just into Stirling – pizza, cinema. Can I go, please?"

Alexandra thought about it for a moment. It was still a little too early to allow the almost-thirteen-year-old to go out on her own, and Alexandra had also heard more than a few troubling things about some the girls whom Charlotte saw as friends. As a parent, Alexandra had always taken a keen look at who her daughters had seen as friends, ensuring that Sarah and Cassie did not fall in with the wrong crowd. Alexandra was determined to guided Charlotte in the very same way, just as if the girl was her own flesh and blood. Alexandra could see the hope in the young girl's eyes, and she felt bad for having to dash those hopes. Charlotte was not a normal child, and she needed protection from a world which she did not know.

"I'd rather you didn't, Charlie. Maybe in the New Year, okay?"

Alexandra saw the instant change in the girl's eyes. They darkened for a moment, before clearing.

"Please, Alexandra – I'll do anything; you can trust me."

"It's still a little early for you going out on your own, honey."

"You don't trust me, do you?" Charlotte growled. "I made a mistake and chose to become a Marauder. That choice is always going to haunt me, and not one of you is ever going to give me a chance, are you?"

"I am not going to argue this, Charlotte," Alexandra replied. "Please accept my decision."

Alexandra saw the annoyed expression as Charlotte turned and began to walk back to the house.

'Teenagers!' she thought with a chuckle.

* * *

 ** _The following evening  
Thursday, December 29th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Alexandra stepped out of the kitchen and she called up the stairs.

"Charlie! Dinner!"

Normally, there was the stampede of feet as the youngster pounded down the stairs, eager for food. Instead, there was silence. After five minutes, Alexandra tried again.

"Charlie! Dinner time! _Charlie!_ "

"I'll go find her, Mum," Sarah suggested, and she headed up the stairs.

"Probably engrossed listening to her music," Richard commented.

A few moments later, Sarah came back down, a confused expression on her face.

"Well?" her mother asked. "Is she coming down?"

"There's no sign of her, Mum."

* * *

 ** _A few hours later_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Charlotte looked up as her bedroom door was pushed open.

Normally, people knocked, so Charlotte glared at whoever it was. Then she changed her expression very quickly once she saw who it was.

"You have some explaining to do, young lady," Alexandra said calmly.

"I only went into Stirling with my friends – nothing happened," Charlotte replied insolently.

"I thought I said, no, Charlotte."

"I'm old enough to look after myself."

"You are still a child."

"Maybe, but I've done a lot more than most adults have . . . and I can look after myself – it's not like anybody could actually rape me; I'd kill them the moment they laid a finger on me."

"You are not helping your case, Charlotte. You are grounded for one week. Now, get to sleep."

Charlotte was fuming as Alexandra left the bedroom and closed the door.

* * *

 ** _The following night_**

 ** _Friday, December 30th_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

Charlotte pushed open the back door, and very carefully she crept into the kitchen which was pleasantly empty.

The girl crept across the kitchen and headed out into the dark hallway before turning for the stairs. After three steps, a light came on.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Alexandra demanded from where she had been sitting on the stairs.

"I was only enjoying some time out with my friends," Charlotte replied in a slightly aggressive tone.

"You are outside of your curfew, young lady."

Charlotte grinned for a moment, refocussing her responses.

"I'm sorry, Alexandra – I won't do it again, I promise."

"Get upstairs and stay in your bedroom. A decision will be made on your future, tonight."

Charlotte winced – maybe Alexandra was not the pushover that she had expected.

..._...

As she reached her bedroom, Charlotte slammed the door and then dived onto her bed.

She figured that she had screwed up, but she also figured, rather brazenly, that her new family were the forgiving sort – she hoped. However, she figured that maybe she had fucked up, and she felt tears welling up inside as she considered the possible outcomes of her behaviour. Then she found herself sobbing at the realisation of what she had risked.

Outside the bedroom door, Sarah could hear the sobbing, but her own emotions were mixed as to what should happen to the girl.

..._...

Forty minutes later, Charlotte was more than a little apprehensive as she was led from her bedroom by Sarah.

Somehow, she felt like she was leaving her cell on death row and being led to her execution. That feeling was confirmed as she was led into the living room. Sarah motioned Charlotte to stand before the couch where three people sat while Sarah went and sat down in a chair. Other than Sarah, Charlotte found herself facing Natasha and Cameron. She began shaking and she realised that she had really pushed things way too far . . . _way – too – far_. She began sobbing again without knowing it and pleading for clemency. Natasha stood up and she glared down at the sobbing twelve-year-old.

"Cut it, the fuck out, Grey!" Natasha demanded sharply, and Charlotte's expression changed to one of disbelief, but her tears remained. "We don't need those crocodile tears, girl – _so_ fake!"

"They are not _bloody_ FAKE!" Charlotte retorted angrily.

"Keep a civil tongue in your head, young lady," Cassie directed as she grabbed a thick folder from a table. "Are you Charlotte Grey?"

"You know I am."

Cassie began to read from the folder.

"Charlotte Lorna Bailey was born on the first of February 2004, in York, England. She was taken for _Urban Predator_ in February 2012 at the tender age of eight. Her identity was reassigned on completion of basic training and she became Charlotte Grey – the young girl who now stands before us. Does that sound correct, Charlotte?"

It was the very first time that she had heard those details and she was quite surprised – and a little unnerved – to find out that they had her _Urban Predator_ file.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay," Cassie continued. "You completed Phase 1 training in February 2013 with very favourable marks on your training. We see you struggled, but with the help of Jake, you got through training. Blah, blah, blah. Short for your age, back then, apparently – that's improved some! Now, Charlotte, I want you to read the highlighted portion."

Charlotte took the folder from Cassie and she focussed on a particular passage which had been highlighted in yellow.

"Out loud, if you please," Cassie directed.

Charlotte's shoulders slumped as she quickly read what she was about to read out loud and she felt the noose tightening around her neck. She began to speak, barely recognising her own voice.

" _Grey is deemed on-track for her Phase 2 training. Her entry into puberty a few months after her eleventh birthday initiated a growth spurt allowing her to match her contemporaries in height as expected. The girl has also developed an intriguing, if sometimes undesirable, ability to manipulate and turn people to her advantage._ " She paused, "This isn't me. . ."

"Continue," Cassie directed coldly.

Charlotte felt the tears returning as she continued to read.

" _From the age of ten, Grey began to twist people, both instructors and her fellow Predators, as she talked herself out of trouble or into a more desirable position. On numerous occasions, Grey has demonstrated a cold selfishness and a Machiavellian motivation to assist her with her progress as a_ Predator. _Of the three personality traits for the so-called 'dark triad', Grey has demonstrated the aforementioned Machiavellianism trait and there appears to be a limited set of psychopathic tendencies beginning to surface. For the moment, though, there have been no obvious signs of any narcissistic tendencies, but that may change as Grey gets older. Instructors have been warned not to tolerate her manipulation and to put a swift stop to any outward attempts at manipulation which may be deemed a danger to instructors,_ Predators _, or the program in general._ "

Charlotte finished reading and she just stared down at the printed words, her tears dripping onto the paper. The silence as the four adults simply looked at her was more than the youngster could bear and she sobbed as she stood there before them.

"After everything that people have done for you," Cassie said quietly. "Hit Girl wanted you all to have a second chance. We thought that you could be trusted, but we were obviously very wrong. . ."

"I _can_ be trusted!" Charlotte interrupted.

"No, you cannot be trusted," Natasha responded. "Do not interrupt."

"Was what they wrote in that folder wrong?" Cameron asked as he spoke for the first time.

"Yes . . . no . . . yes, but . . . I'm not like that anymore. Please believe me. I would never do anything like that to you all – I love it here."

"I think you should go back to Hit Girl until she is happy that you are properly rehabilitated."

"NO!"

"Until then, this goes back on," Cassie said as she took the folder away from Charlotte and she produced the ankle monitor.

Charlotte's face went very pale and she began to beg. It took both Cameron and Natasha to pin the struggling girl to the floor while the monitor was fitted to her left ankle by Cassie. All the time, the girl struggled and fought as she sobbed hysterically in floods of tears. Charlotte yelled out and very quickly she began struggling to breathe as she worked herself into such a state that she was released, and she just lay on the floor panting for breath. She was shaking and sweating as she struggled to take in a breath.

Then the girl suddenly bolted for the closest bathroom and she vomited violently.

..._...

Cassie stood by the door to the living room, awaiting Charlotte's return.

She felt a hand on her arm – it was Kaitlin (she had insisted on going along with Cassie), and she looked very angry.

"What is it, honey?"

"I believe her, and I think that you should too."

"You were listening in, were you? I know you always like to see the good in people, but Charlotte is highly skilled at manipulation and twisting people to get her own way," Cassie explained gently. "We have no idea if she has truly reformed."

"Please give her another chance – just one more," Kaitlin asked.

"We can't – we have no way of trusting her."

"I trust her – something inside of me says that she's innocent – well, yes, she fucked up, but I fuck up too, and you've never suggested sending me away."

"I would never send you away, Kaitlin."

"Then why would you send Charlotte away?"

Cassie smiled down at the young girl.

"I'll see what I can do, okay?"

"That's all I ask," Kaitlin replied, still looking angry.

"Okay, honey – go get ready to go as we need to get home."

..._...

Charlotte returned, and she looked thoroughly miserable while her face was white and streaked with tears.

"Charlotte, sit down," Cassie directed, pointing at a chair.

Once Charlotte was seated, Cassie studied the young girl, searching for any hint of malice or manipulation. Then, after a pause, Cassie knelt down, and she lifted Charlotte's chin so that she could look directly into the twelve-year-old's eyes. The blue eyes had lost their usual sparkle, and for the first time, Cassie saw real fear in those eyes.

"We are at a crossroads, Charlotte," Cassie began. "One road takes you back across the Atlantic Ocean and to Chicago where you will return to Level 8. I know you don't want that – and to be honest, neither do I."

Cassie saw a faint flicker of hope in those young eyes.

"Give me your ankle."

Cassie gently removed the ankle monitor and she saw a look of intense gratitude appear on the young girl's face.

"You have one week, Charlotte Grey, to sort out your life," Cassie directed as she stood up. "You are on probation and you fuck up, you have a one-way ticket westward. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," came the, almost whispered, response.

"LOUDER!" Cassie almost bellowed, shaking Charlotte to the core.

"Yes, ma'am," the shaking Charlotte responded.

"Go upstairs, get yourself cleaned up, and get into bed," Cassie directed.

The young girl fled from the room.

..._...

As Charlotte washed herself in the shower, she struggled to process everything that was happening to her.

Everything had been good but then everything had suddenly taken a nasty turn for the worse. She was on the verge of being sent back to that subterranean hellhole in Chicago. No, that was _not_ going to happen. She could not take living in that depressing place again. When she returned to her bedroom, she looked at the clock beside her bed – it was a few minutes before midnight. She did some quick maths in her head and she grabbed her mobile phone, running through the contacts before selecting a number. It took a few seconds to connect before the phone at the other end began to ring.

 _"Hello."_

"Abigail?"

 _"Hi, Charlie!"_ Abigail called out from Chicago.

"I've fucked up."

 _"What do you mean?"_ Abigail asked her friend.

"They want to send me back . . . to Level 8."

 _"What have you done?"_ Abigail asked, aghast at the news.

"I broke curfew and went out when I was told not to. Not to mention the other things I've done. They put me on probation."

 _"Christ, Charlotte! You can get through this. You got through your time on Level 8 and I know you can do this. You're a good person, Charlie."_

"Maybe you should have killed me when you had the chance, Abigail."

 _"Don't you fucking talk like that!"_ Abigail almost shouted.

"I don't know what to do – you're the only person I have to talk to."

 _"You have friends over there, Charlotte. You are not alone. Talk to Cassie."_

"She's the one who put me in hack."

 _"I promise you that she's fair – talk to them and ask for help."_

"Okay," Charlotte replied. "Thanks for listening to me whine."

"Anytime, Charlie – I'm your friend, and always will be. Stay strong."

"Thanks. Bye, Abigail."

"Sleep tight, Charlie."


	64. To Kill A Predator

**_The following evening  
Saturday, December 31st, 2016_**

 ** _George Square, Glasgow_**

Robert Bowman was out for blood that evening.

He intended on making a statement. He wanted revenge for the death of his dear sister, Anna, at the hands of a _Vengeance_ vigilante. He wanted a very public statement to be made which would cement his reputation and act as a warning for anybody that considered crossing him or his family. He had decided that taking down a member of the much-vaunted _Vengeance_ would be the highway to power in Scotland . . . and indeed across the United Kingdom. His plans for the evening had been well thought out and there were contingencies for every contingency. He had a primary target in mind, plus a secondary, and many more besides. His ultimate aim would be to destroy _Vengeance_ in its entirety. However, the man had a pragmatic mind and he knew that taking down the entire organisation would take time . . . but, he had time.

Plenty of time.

* * *

Bowman was not the only one out that night, in George Square; _Vengeance_ too was out on the prowl.

Nemesis sat in _SABRE_ , accompanied by Prowl, Rigour, and Glide. They were parked up on the south side, a dozen yards down from Buchanan Street, and were keeping their eyes open for trouble. Across the other side of the square, close to Queen Street Station, _SCIMITAR_ sat parked beside the kerb. Inside, Scorpion sat with Ajax, Stripe, and Overrun. Also, out that night, were Crimson and Drift on their motorcycles; they were mobile and cruising around the area. A friend had also been spotted out that night; Storm was out on her own motorcycle, down near the River Clyde.

The overt vigilante presence, alongside the usual police presence, was intended to act as a warning to all the revellers out that night that trouble would not be tolerated. It appeared to be working too. All who were out, in and around George Square, saw the blacked out armoured Range Rover Sentinels and periodically, they would see an armoured and masked vigilante strolling around or cruising past on a motorcycle. However, everybody knew that the small petty thefts would still occur – they always did – and many would find out, much later that night, that their nice new iPhone which had cost them £600 had vanished . . . and they would have instantly regretted skipping the 'theft protection option' on their new purchase.

Vengeance was not there to stop the pickpockets – although they would, given half a chance – instead, they were there to prevent any form of atrocity or act of terrorism. There were people who would get kicks out of causing trouble amongst the tens of thousands who were out in Scotland's largest city that night. Everyone was happy, and most were busy drinking alcohol like they figured prohibition was due to start at midnight. Gallons of beer, lager, cider, and spirits were being consumed in enormous quantities. Buckie – that ubiquitous trouble-causing tonic wine called Buckfast – was being swilled by the litre causing drunkenness, vomiting, and often worse. The ambulance service was very busy seeing to youths who had drunken themselves into the proverbial stupor. Unfortunately for some, they would not survive the night, dying of acute alcohol poisoning, or just drowning in their own vomit.

However, one other would not survive the night.

* * *

 ** _SABRE  
Nemesis, Rigour, Prowl, Glide_**

 ** _11:24_**

"This is boring."

Nemesis stared up at the roof of the armoured vehicle, her fists clenched. "Give me strength," she muttered as the two girls in the back seat giggled.

"So immature!" Rigour commented as Prowl and Glide continued to giggle.

"This is boring," Glide repeated. "I want to go kick some ass!"

"All in good time, Glide," Nemesis responded tartly. "All in good time."

"Nem'sis, can we _please_ go for a walk?" Glide continued after a few minutes of silence.

"Scorpion, Nemesis, over."

"Hi – they driving you round the bend, yet?" Scorpion chuckled.

"You want another daughter?" Nemesis asked.

"I got enough shit at home, thanks, not to mention hormonal teens in here."

 _"Are you saying I cause shit?"_ Polaris demanded from the Command Centre.

 _"Does she need to?"_ Aegea cut in from the same Command Centre.

 _"Assholes!"_ Polaris growled.

 _"If you guys have a moment,"_ Q commented. _"We have something brewing at Royal Exchange Square."_

"Action!" Glide exclaimed. "Let me at 'em!"

Nemesis started the engine and she negotiated the inebriated Glaswegians who apparently could not tell the difference between a road and the pavements.

* * *

 ** _Crimson and Drift_**

 ** _11:32_**

Crimson was leading as the pair of them rode slowly in an easterly direction along George Street.

As they approached North Portland Street, a woman clad entirely in black leathers pulled up beside them. The side of her helmet bore a thunder cloud emblem – it was Storm.

"Hello, Storm," Drift said in greeting.

"Drift," the young woman replied from behind her darkened visor.

"To what do we owe this meeting," Crimson asked.

"A few weeks ago, you had a run in with Robert Bowman, right?"

"Yes, we did," Crimson confirmed.

"And you killed his sister?"

"Yes, we did," Crimson confirmed.

"Well, Bowman and his people are here, in Glasgow, right now," Storm explained.

"I doubt he's here for the 'Auld Lang Syne' at midnight," Drift growled.

"My thoughts, exactly," Storm stated.

"Where?" Drift asked.

"Everywhere."

* * *

 ** _SABRE  
Nemesis with Rigour, Prowl, and Glide_**

 ** _11:38_**

 _"_ Vengeance _, use caution – Bowman is here and out to cause trouble. Stay together and do not venture out alone," Drift directed over the radio. "That includes you, Prowl!"_

"Hey!" Prowl complained. "That was a one off. . ."

"Just do what you're told, there's a good little girl, Prowl," Glide laughed.

"Behave!" Nemesis growled as Prowl went to strike Glide with her armoured fist.

When they pulled up at Royal Exchange Square, they immediately clocked a group of heavies inciting violence amongst the Glaswegians who, with a token amount of alcohol inside them, did not need all that much incitement to fight. Punches were being thrown and returned. When the vigilantes appeared on the scene, everything turned ugly just as if a switch had been thrown, and it quickly became very obvious to all that they were Bowman goons and that it was a setup. No matter, the four vigilantes could give as good as they received.

Glide was in her element as she used her small size and manoeuvrability to her advantage, undercutting the punches as the much larger men tried to come to grips with the miniature vigilante. Indeed, the eight men thought that Christmas had returned as they found themselves facing off against four females, three of whom were decidedly short. However, the men quickly thought better as they found out the hard way that _Vengeance_ vigilantes rightly deserved their reputation for fighting hard, way beyond their expected limits. Sex and size meant nothing to the _Fusion_ -trained vigilantes. About the only thing that the Bowman heavies had going for them was that they were not facing any of the male vigilantes who all had a reputation for beating the living crap out of anybody who came their way, no matter what the size or strength.

That was when the weapons came out and collapsible ASPs appeared as the fighting quickly escalated.

* * *

 ** _SCIMITAR  
Scorpion with Ajax, Stripe, and Overrun_**

 ** _11:45_**

As the fighting at Royal Exchange Square escalated, Scorpion headed nearer to provide backup.

Only, Bowman had other ideas. As Scorpion drove the Range Rover Sentinel down South Frederick Street, she had her attention drawn to the zigzagging pedestrians whom she endeavoured to valiantly avoid with some success. When she turned right onto Ingram Street, her attention was still split between the road ahead and the pedestrians with their incredible inability to remain on the pavements. She never saw the 7.5-tonne truck which accelerated out of Hanover Street from the right. _SCIMITAR_ shook violently as the three-tonne vehicle was struck broadside and shoved to the left. The armoured windows remained intact as did the main body of the vehicle, but the paintwork was severely messed up. Two men appeared from either side of the truck and Stripe's eyes went wide as he saw the weapons in their hands.

"Down!" he yelled as the AA-12 automatic shotguns began to pump forth FRAG-12 high-explosive rounds.

The armoured glazing began to take hits and the glass crazed over as it was pitted by each successive strike from the high-explosive rounds. Each explosion was deafening to those inside the vehicle and Scorpion had ducked down, pulling Ajax down with her, stabbing an emergency panic button as she did so. In the back seat, Stripe had seized Overrun and covered her with his body. The alert went directly to the Command Centre and Q immediately directed Crimson and Drift towards the embattled _SCIMITAR_. Across the river, Chief and Raptor sat in _CUTLASS_ , an armoured Land Rover Discovery.

The moment they received the alert they immediately raced across King George V Bridge towards Central Station and then headed towards the ongoing trouble, heading up Oswald Street.

* * *

 ** _11:53_**

The pleasant night out had turned _very_ nasty.

Crimson and Drift arrived to find _SCIMITAR_ under heavy attack. They had heard the explosive rounds detonating as they had approached the scene. As far as they could tell, the heavy armour on the 4x4 had not been breached, but it was only a matter of 'when', not 'if'. Crimson swiftly applied the brakes and she reached behind for her weapon. She opened fire on the attackers with her FN P90 the moment she had stopped, dropping the closest man with the first burst. The duller chatter of a subtly different machinegun fire erupted from the far side of the truck and the second man fell to the street. As Drift moved closer, his own P90 to his shoulder, a black-gloved hand waved form behind cover, and Drift saw Storm with an MP5K at her shoulder just beyond the truck.

" _SCIMITAR_ – report!" Drift ordered. "You're clear to exit."

"The fireworks stopped?" Ajax asked as she climbed out.

Scorpion emerged, and she studied the damage.

"You are _not_ billing _me_ for any of this shit," she growled. "It was the other guy."

"Let's go check on the others," Crimson suggested as she dismounted from her motorcycle.

"They appear to be doing rather well on their own," Drift commented a few seconds later as they ran down the street towards Royal Exchange Square.

"Oh, shit!" Storm exclaimed as two men appeared holding submachine guns.

Storm was about to dive for the ground with the _Fusion_ vigilantes when there came the roar of a powerful engine and both of the men were swept aside like they were made of paper by the armoured beast which was _CUTLASS_.

"Stupid bastards!" Raptor called out.

..._...

Beyond _CUTLASS_ , Nemesis was apparently enjoying herself as she battled two rather large brutes who were doing their best, only Nemesis was not letting them get within two feet of her.

Nemesis was making good use of her 42-inch Katana with the Saya in place. She had no desire to kill unnecessarily and thus litter the city with bodies. Instead, she was enjoying beating the living crap out of men three times her size. As for Prowl, she was also in the zone and using her agility to dodge the fists which came her way. The girl had drawn blood with her Bagh Naka claws which only appeared to infuriate her victims. The nine-year-old knew that beneath her protective suit she was covered in bruises, but she was having the time of her life and she could not have wished for a better New Year. Glide, however, was in two minds. She did not enjoy the violence as much as she once did. However, she alleviated her worries with the knowledge that the men wanted to hurt her and her friends, not to mention that they worked for that bastard, Bowman. The younger girl had just begun to make proper use of a 36-inch Ko-Katana in addition to her twin axes. In the very same way as Nemesis, the sheathed blade was being used as a melee weapon to great effect.

Rigour lashed out with her carbon-composite batons, keeping a wary eye open for her friends. She was there to support them and to watch their backs. There were plenty of heavies to go around, so Rigour concentrated on a pair of men, giving them an instant headache, both physically and metaphorically. The stonework of the surrounding buildings also helped as Rigour took the head of one heavy off a stone, knocking him senseless and leaving a red smear on the light-coloured stonework. The ten-year-old was getting a little carried away as she laid out heavy after heavy while still covering her friends. At one point, both Rigour and Nemesis were attacking the same unfortunate man who was armed with an ASP. With perfect coordination, they rapidly overpowered the man who was much bigger than both females combined, and he thudded to the ground unconscious a few moments later.

There _were_ bodies littering the area, plenty of them, but they were living bodies – out cold, yes – but otherwise alive.

..._...

Seemingly out of nowhere, the pilum flew through the air, straight and true.

Only one person caught sight of the two-metre-long javelin as the metal components glinted under the street lighting. There was no time to shout a warning. There was barely time for her mind to react to the rapid change in events. Prowl moved quicker than she had ever thought possible. With a targeted leap, the girl shoved Glide hard, causing the younger girl to fall to the ground. Glide glared back up at Prowl, angry at the unnecessary rough handling. However, the angry rebuke which Glide had prepared froze on her lips as with mounting horror she saw the object protruding from Prowl's chest. At first, Glide was unsure what it was protruding from Prowl but then her eyes focused on the blood-soaked pyramidal head at the end of a narrow metal shaft, less than a centimetre in diameter. The shaft was about sixty centimetres in length and had passed completely through Prowl's abdomen.

Nemesis had heard Glide's angry yell as she had been shoved to one side, so her focus had immediately turned to the younger girl. Then she had seen Glide staring at something else and Nemesis' focus drifted over to Prowl who was sagging to the ground, landing on her knees. Nemesis was horrified by what she saw protruding from her daughter's body.

"Prowl! Talk to me."

Prowl did not answer. The girl looked up at Nemesis for a moment but then, as she fell to her knees, she hesitated for a moment, swaying, before she fell the rest of the way to the ground. The aluminium shaft of the weapon prevented Prowl from rolling onto her back. Instead, the girl landed on her right side and she did not move again.

"Q – we need emergency medical support, _NOW!_ " Nemesis yelled.

* * *

 ** _Sunday, January 1st, 2017_**

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

 ** _00:12_**

It was the New Year, yet she felt like crap, instead of being happy.

The sharp shock to her system just a few days previously had given her pause for thought. Inside, she did not think that she could keep herself out of trouble long enough to prevent herself from being sent back across the Atlantic Ocean. Part of that feeling was caused by depression. She only really had one person whom she felt that she could open up to, and that was Abigail, but she was 3,000 miles away and she was out in Chicago, running about as Fury. Charlotte had spent hours that night trying to figure out what she could do to repair the damage – assuming it could be repaired at all.

After a lot of soul-searching, Charlotte had ultimately decided that she would be better off on her own rather than risking being sent back to the United States where her future would most probably go downhill rather fast at the hands of Hit Girl. It was not a decision which she was taking lightly. She knew that she was betraying all of those who had put their time and effort into helping her, not least, Abigail.

The only question was when.

..._...

Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted as Alexandra knocked on the door to her bedroom and she put her head around the door.

"Charlotte," Alexandra said. "I need to go out – please behave."

"Something wrong?" Charlotte asked as she noticed Alexandra's demeanour.

"Yes – I need to go make some arrangements."

"No problem."

Charlotte listened as she heard the front door slam downstairs and then a car starting up. The girl moved like lightning as she grabbed her backpack from under her bed and dumped it on the bed. It was already packed with some clothing and important personal items. She crammed in some clean clothes and a few other personal items before zipping it shut. Next, Charlotte removed the back from her mobile phone and pulled out the sim chip and battery before dumping it all into the front pocket of the backpack, zipping it up. She pulled on her boots, lacing them up tightly, and she checked that her wallet was in her pocket before she grabbed the backpack and headed out the door. She ran down the stairs and grabbed her jacket off the hook by the front door. Only then, did Charlotte took a deep breath as she pulled open the door. She felt tears running down her face as she stepped out into a raging torrent which quickly washed away her tears. The thirteen-year-old strode purposely down the drive and she was soon at the road.

She turned right and began walking.

* * *

 ** _Queen Street, Glasgow_**

 ** _00:15_**

The BMW 1200RT motorcycle raced up the street at speed, its blue strobe lights flashing and the siren screaming.

The motorcycle stood out as that used by a paramedic of the Scottish Ambulance Service thanks to its green and yellow Battenberg markings. As the BMW turned left into Royal Exchange Square where the incident had been reported, the rider slowed and he pulled to a stop beside a large, dark grey Range Rover Sentinel with the registration plate: **S4 BRE**.

There was a supine form on the roadway with two people crouched over it. A third form stood guard, an assault rifle to his shoulder. The armoured vigilante known as Crimson waved the paramedic forward as the man removed his helmet and he grabbed his bag of tricks from a pannier on his motorcycle. The paramedic knelt down beside the supine form and he found it to be a young female vigilante. He looked up at one of the armoured forms crouched over the fallen vigilante. Nemesis moved back, and she pulled Glide away from Prowl. The paramedic quickly set to work examining the wounded vigilante. The weapon, such as it was, had been severed very close to the wound, both to the front and the back, allowing field dressings to be applied to staunch the blood flow; acts which had probably saved the girl's life. The dressing was removed by the paramedic, and the wound inspected. After a few moments' examination, the paramedic looked up at Nemesis again.

"We need to get her out of here before the ambulance arrives; I am Red Alpha."

Nemesis instantly recognised the 'Red Alpha' code phrase which meant that the paramedic was cleared by MI5 and he could be trusted – to a point.

"She can be moved?" Nemesis queried.

"Yes – just don't shift that dressing for now and keep her as still as possible."

"Will she be okay?" the shorter vigilante enquired in her electronically enhanced voice.

"Yes, she will," the Paramedic replied.

* * *

 ** _A few miles east of Blairhoyle_**

 ** _00:25_**

Charlotte was not all that far from what had been her home.

Her mind was focussed on continuing on with her decision and she kept her head down, ignoring the pounding, freezing rain which stung her face. After a couple of miles, she paused and ducked into a gap in the hedgerow to allow an oncoming vehicle to pass. It wasn't until the vehicle passed her that she noticed it was a police car – a BMW. She was about to continue walking when the bright red brake lights came on and the BMW stopped. Then came the blue strobe lights and wig-wag red lights on the roof-mounted lightbar followed by the white reversing lights at the back of the car as the car reversed to where Charlotte stood. Charlotte considered bolting, but she stood her ground as the passenger-side window rolled down.

"Well, hello, young lady – bit early, or late, for a stroll in the rain, I would think," Sergeant Barlow commented from the driver's seat. "Why don't you get in out of the rain, there's a good girl."

Charlotte figured it was more an order than a friendly suggestion, so she obediently pulled open the rear door and climbed in, quickly pulling the door closed behind her.

* * *

 ** _Glasgow_**

 ** _00:25_**

The paramedic with _SABRE_ close behind, raced under the cover of blue lights and sirens for the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital.

Brakes and tyres burned as they raced across Glasgow at high speed before racing south through the Clyde Tunnel at almost ninety miles-per-hour. Inside _SABRE_ , Prowl, her mask removed, lay on the backseat with Rigour holding an oxygen mask in place on her friend's face. Prowl had not regained consciousness which was a blessing for all involved. Glide sat with her cousin's legs stretched across her own, sobbing her heart out. They closed the hospital and raced directly onto the grounds, but instead of making for the usual Accident & Emergency entrance as expected, the paramedic made for an almost invisible ramp which descended downward beneath the hospital, down several levels with each turn of the ramp at an acute right-angle. At the base of the ramp, an armed police officer appeared, and after noting the arrivals, he punched a code into a number pad mounted on the wall beside him and a steel roller-shutter opened to reveal a well-lit concrete subterranean garage. As _SABRE_ passed through the shuttered entrance, the steel roller-shutter lowered noiselessly back into position. They turned a corner and then stopped beside the paramedic. Nemesis could not believe her eyes. There was what appeared to be a smart-looking entrance which would not go amiss as that of a large business elsewhere in Glasgow. Standing beside the entrance, a white-coated doctor and two nurses awaited their arrival with a gurney.

Swiftly, Prowl was removed from the back of _SABRE_ and the paramedic began rattling off the youngsters most recent stats as the girl was laid on the gurney and then rushed inside the facility.

* * *

 ** _A few miles east of Blairhoyle_**

 ** _00:30_**

"Hello – my name is Sergeant Barlow, and this is PC Bingham. May we know your name?"

"Charlotte Grey."

"Bet you prefer 'Charlie', eh?" Barlow asked good-naturedly. "So, what's the trouble, Charlotte?"

"Just fancied a walk."

"With a backpack? Full of clothes, I'd wager."

"I don't belong there."

"Where? Blairhoyle?"

"Yeah."

The police sergeant looked pained for a moment.

"You're not thinking of going off on one and smashing up my bimmer, are you?"

"Why'd you think that?" Charlotte asked.

"Young Kaitlin went a little wild and she cost me a lot of glass and a complete set of rubber."

"I'm a bit more refined than she is."

"Glad to hear it. Okay, what makes you think you don't belong there, then?"

"I keep fuck . . . screwing up and I don't think they want me there. Everything I do backfires. I tried to protect my friend who was sort of being bullied, but I got into trouble for hitting a boy. Then I went out to Stirling on my own when I was told not to go out. I hate taking orders – I've had too much of that. I knew what I did was wrong but . . . I'm a bad person – I've done bad things."

"Should I arrest you, then?"

"Probably."

"How old are you?" PC Bingham asked as he entered the conversation.

"Thirteen."

"A difficult age, right?"

"I suppose."

"When you get in trouble, do you get told off?"

"A lot."

"Do people go out of their way to keep you on the right road?"

"I suppose."

"Do people enjoy having you around?"

"I think so."

"Do you enjoy being with the people you live with?"

"Yes, a lot."

"What will they think when they find you missing?"

Charlotte paused to consider that statement before responding.

"I hadn't thought about that."

"That's obvious."

"Can you take me home?" Charlotte asked, suddenly regretting her actions.

The car was moving before Bellamy responded.

"You're a smart girl and I'm certain you'll go far. Just give it time. I have two children – a boy and a girl – a little younger than you. They hate their old dad ordering them about, but they know it's for the best."

Bellamy stopped the BMW outside the gates to Blairhoyle.

"If you need to talk, you call me," the man said as he handed Charlotte a card with his contact details.

"Thank you."

* * *

 ** _Government Bunker  
Queen Elizabeth University Hospital  
Glasgow_**

 ** _00:30_**

"Doctor Rob Bedford – I'm the supervisor for the medical portion of this facility," the man said in brief introduction as they watched Prowl being wheeled off.

The man had met the group in a large reception area. He did not seem perturbed about facing three masked individuals.

"This place was built at the same time as the hospital in total secrecy. It is a secure bunker designed for anything from protection during a major terrorist attack to the survival of a nuclear apocalypse. It is not a public bunker, however, but is intended for the Scottish Government of the day as well as the Local Authority."

The paramedic returned after fifteen minutes.

"She's stable for the moment, but she has a severe injury with extensive internal trauma. For the moment, she is heavily sedated and will not regain consciousness for quite a while."

"Can we see her?" Nemesis asked.

"Not right now," the paramedic replied. "Believe me, you would not like to see her right now."

..._..

They sat down and waited for another thirty minutes before an armed police officer appeared escorting a woman.

Nemesis felt immense relief as she saw her mother come towards her. The entire situation as way beyond anything which she knew how to manage. Deep down, she knew that it would not be long before somebody close to her was hurt. But it had still come as a major shock to her. Alexandra had been briefed on the situation by the paramedic who was waiting with Nemesis, Rigour, and Glide. One look at her daughter, still encased in her armoured combat suit was all it took to know that the girl was exhausted – not to mention the two younger girls.

"Go home," Alexandra directed.

"I can't," Nemesis replied.

Alexandra pulled her daughter off to one side and she glared directly into the masked eyes.

"You have another daughter who needs you, Cassandra." The rebuke was sharp, but it snapped Cassie back to the broader picture. "Take the girls back to Blairhoyle. You will have Charlotte for company."

"You contact me the moment you know anything," Nemesis responded.

"I will, honey."

* * *

 ** _Blairhoyle_**

 ** _02:30_**

Things could have been going better – a lot better.

In her haste to leave the house, earlier that night, she had not taken the time to grab her door key. Therefore, on her return, after being dropped off by the police, she had not been able to get back into the house. Therefore, she had sat huddled in the front porch, wondering how she was going to explain her sitting there with her backpack when Alexandra returned home. Finally, she heard a car and she bolted out of the porch and around the side of the house, keeping to the dark shadows. Charlotte stopped and listened to the car as it pulled up. The freezing rain had already soaked her hair and it was running down the back of her neck. The car doors opened, and Charlotte heard familiar voices.

"Naomi's in good hands, Kaitlin – please, go upstairs and get into bed, okay?"

"But. . ."

"Go, honey . . . please?" Cassie responded.

"Come on," came another voice which Charlotte recognised as that of Electra.

There was something in their tones. Something was very badly wrong. She watched as Cassie unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Kaitlin followed, her feet dragging on the ground as she walked. Charlotte could not see much detail, but Kaitlin's face was wet, however, it was not immediately clear if that was from the rain or from tears. Something was amiss, and it took a second for Charlotte to notice that Naomi was missing – maybe they'd traded her for Electra. Speedily, Charlotte ran for the door, slipping in immediately behind Electra who turned and frowned at the older girl.

Charlotte simply grinned as she bolted for the stairs.

..._...

Charlotte dumped the backpack in her bedroom and she pulled off her jacket before quickly running a towel over her dripping hair to remove most of the water.

She went to investigate events, and she found Kaitlin lying on her bed, shaking as she sobbed. The youngster had pulled off her trainers and jeans and she just wore her knickers and a T-shirt. Kaitlin was facing the windows, staring out as if into nothing. Charlotte kicked off her boots and she lay down on the bed facing Kaitlin.

"Hi," Charlotte said quietly.

"Hi," Kaitlin replied. "Naomi's been hurt – I'm going to lose her."

The sobbing suddenly reached a crescendo and Charlotte was horrified. She grabbed some tissues from a box on the table beside Kaitlin's bed and she dabbed away the tears as she began to sing to Kaitlin.

 _A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain  
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay.  
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting  
Waiting to sail your worries away._

Kaitlin smiled weakly as she took hold of Charlotte's left hand with her right and held on tight.

 _It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain  
And your boat waits down by the quay.  
The winds of night so softly are sighing  
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea._

Charlotte gently wiped away the last of the tears and she moved Kaitlin's light hair away from the little girl's eyes. Then she hesitated slightly as she saw Cassie appearing in the doorway – but Cassie smiled, and she motioned for Charlotte to continue.

 _So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain.  
Wave goodbye to cares of the day.  
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain  
Sail far away from lullaby bay._

At the end of the lullaby, Kaitlin was all but asleep. Charlotte slipped off the bed and with the assistance of Cassie, helped Kaitlin under her duvet.

"Can I go to bed, now?" Electra asked from the doorway.

"Go sleep in Naomi's bed, if you want – keep Kaitlin company," Cassie offered.

Charlotte smiled as she left the bedroom and headed for her own to get undressed and into bed.

..._...

Charlotte lay in bed, contemplating events when there came a knock on the bedroom door.

"Hello," Cassie said.

Charlotte pushed back the duvet and she sat up, resting her bare feet on the carpet. She looked down at her feet, awaiting the Heavens falling around her. Cassie lifted the young girl's chin up and she smiled.

"Thank you, Charlie – that was wonderful," Cassie said as she gave the youngster a hug. "I know it's hard being thirteen and I know you've had five years of sheer hell. I promise to do everything I can to make things better for you. Let's draw a line, shall we . . . a new start, maybe?"

"I'd like that," Charlotte replied with a smile as she slid back under her duvet.

"Oh," Cassie grinned as she headed out the door. "You need to make sure your hair is properly dry after being out in the rain or you might just catch a cold."

Charlotte winced as Cassie closed the door.

* * *

 ** _Later that morning  
Sunday, January 1st_**

 ** _10:15_**

Cassie had not had much sleep, understandably.

After many hours of tossing and turning, she had gone for a walk through the dark corridors of Blairhoyle. She had peered in on Charlotte and found that Kaitlin had wormed herself in with the older girl and both were sleeping soundly. Electra appeared to be sleeping soundly in Naomi's bed . . . thinking of Naomi had brought it all back again. The little girl whom she was supposed to be protecting had been hurt . . . badly. She was supposed to be the little girl's mother and that had meant keeping the youngster out of harm's way. However, that was a little hard when the little girl in question had spent two years being trained to take lives. It was also a little hard when that same little girl was a skilled vigilante working for a notorious vigilante organisation. It didn't matter that Naomi was a wild child who loved to be out there, risking her young life, protecting others, Cassie still felt tremendous guilt for Naomi being where she was, in the condition which she was. A text message had come through, soon after five that morning, to say that Naomi was out of surgery and recovering in intensive care. Cassie had felt immense relief, but the guilt was still there.

By the time Charlotte appeared in the kitchen, she found Cassie nursing a cup of tea and looking more than a little rough. Charlotte had put her midnight stroll behind her and she had awoken remarkably refreshed under the circumstances. After carefully climbing around the sleeping eight-year-old who had invaded her bed, Charlotte went for a hot shower. After the shower, Charlotte had checked in on Electra, who was still fast asleep. Charlotte found ten-year-old Electra to be a little bit dark and creepy for her tastes but otherwise, she liked the girl.

"What's up with Naomi, Cassie?"

"She's in hospital – she's hurt rather badly . . . please don't ask me anything else about her."

"Okay. Can we go see her?"

"Not for a while – she just came out of surgery a few hours ago."

"What can I do to help?" Charlotte asked out of genuine concern for Cassie.

"I'm okay . . . thanks, honey."

"Have you had breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry, Charlie."

"I'll make some bacon butties – you need to eat," Charlotte said as she began organising things.

Cassie did not bother arguing; she was far too tired, and she knew that Charlotte was right.

* * *

 ** _10:35_**

"What is that gorgeous smell?" Electra asked as she appeared in the kitchen.

"Bacon butties!" Charlotte responded happily.

"I don't care what they say about you, Charlie, you are a damn good cook," Electra responded as she spied the pile of bread rolls stuffed with rashers of back bacon.

"Sit down, Electra – grab a roll and I'll bring you some tea," Charlotte said.

"I'm hungry," came a weak voice.

Everybody turned to see a little girl clad in just her T-shirt and knickers stumbling into the kitchen. Charlotte manoeuvred Kaitlin into a chair and put a bacon roll in her hands. Kaitlin studied the item for a moment before she dug in with gusto, waking up enough to sip at a hot cup of tea.

"I feel like crap," she admitted between mouthfuls of bread and bacon.

"You look like shit," Charlotte agreed.

"Thanks, Charlie!" Kaitlin grinned.

"Thank you, Charlie," Cassie said to the youngster who was finally sitting down, herself, to eat a roll and drink some tea.

So far, nobody had mentioned the elephant in the room. Nobody had said a word about who was missing. Nobody wanted to be the person to mention Naomi. For the girls, who knew nothing more than they did the previous night, they did not want to ask, just in case something bad had happened to Naomi overnight and the unthinkable had happened. Everybody could remember the day they thought they had lost Harper, only finding out weeks later that she was alive, but very badly hurt. Harper was still recovering and not one hundred per cent by any stretch of the imagination.

Needless to say, it was Kaitlin who finally voiced what most were thinking.

"Is Naomi still alive?"

..._...

All Cassie had been able to do, was nod.

Her emotions did not allow her to say anything and Charlotte winced. She was the only one there who was not aware of the awful truth. She was the only one there who had not seen the trauma which Naomi had endured. Charlotte was aware that there was something going on – that was obvious – however, she had yet to figure things out . . . although she did have some rather outlandish ideas roaming around in her feral mind.

"I'll get the dishes," Charlotte suggested. "You guys can leave them."

"Thank you, Charlotte," Cassie said with a smile.

Once the dirty plates and mugs had been stacked in the dishwasher, Charlotte grabbed Kaitlin and took her upstairs. Kaitlin appeared to be on some form of autopilot and surprisingly, she did not resist as Charlotte guided the eight-year-old into the bathroom and pulled off her clothes. On autopilot, Kaitlin stepped into the shower. There, she stood beneath the hot torrent, not moving. The girl was traumatised, Charlotte could see that without being a psychologist.

Electra was not happy. She could see Kaitlin hurting, and she could see Charlotte wanting to help. Only, Charlotte was not allowed to know anything. Electra had seen how Charlotte had put Kaitlin at ease the previous night and that had been a surprise, considering the older girl's background. But Electra knew better than to betray everything which she held dear. She had insisted on spending the New Year with her friends, rather than her family – they had had her for Christmas, so all was fair. Somehow, the fun time had come to a screeching halt and . . . they had all been through so much. It was Electra's turn to finally give in and she sank down to the floor, tears spilling down her cheeks.

At noon, Cassie received a phone call, from her mother, just as Natasha and Cameron arrived at Blairhoyle. Without hesitation, Cassie vanished out the door with Natasha racing for her car, leaving Cameron to look after the three girls.

* * *

 ** _Government Bunker  
Queen Elizabeth University Hospital  
Glasgow_**

 ** _13:10_**

Cassie had no idea what to expect when she was ushered into intensive care.

She was relieved to find her mother waiting for her. She knew that she would need the support of her as well as Natasha who had insisted on accompanying her. No matter what she was expecting, the reality was a major shock to her system – more than anything. Naomi was all but invisible among the wires which threatened to consume her body. The nine-year-old was naked but for a white sheet which covered her from the waist down. Monitors were attached to her chest, while a pressure band covered her right bicep and was connected to a device along with the wires from her chest which produced multi-coloured lines on a screen. A plastic tube ran over the pillow beside Naomi's head with its long blonde hair and attached to a tube which was secured to her mouth. The opposite end of the plastic tube was attached to a ventilator which made mechanical sounds as it helped the young girl to breathe. The very centre of Naomi's abdomen was covered in a white medical dressing, which was taped in place. Her left ankle had an IV inserted, as did her left wrist and hand. Various transparent fluids were being infused into the girl's body, along with the obvious flow of a deep red substance into a vein.

The sight broke Cassie's heart and she began sobbing uncontrollably as Natasha guided her friend to a chair.

..._...

Twenty minutes later, Cassie was struggling to hold it together when she heard a friendly voice.

"I got here as soon as I could," Blake Schneider said as he breezed in the door wearing his white doctor's coat. "I thought a friendly face might help. I've had a chat with Naomi's doctor and I said that I would run through the prognosis with you."

"Hi, Blake," Cassie said, wiping away her tears. "Thanks for coming."

"I hate having to do this when children are involved," Blake said as he opened up Naomi's chart. "The weapon struck Naomi in the back, taking out part of the tenth rib, on the left side a couple of inches from the backbone. The longissimus thoracis has been pierced as has the latissimus dorsi – those are both key muscles in the back which will take time to heal and will affect Naomi's natural movement, including that of her neck and left shoulder. Her left lung has been punctured, but the major damage has been fixed, so we do not expect any complications, but she will remain sedated and on the respirator for a few more days. The liver was missed by less than a centimetre, but Naomi has lost a very small part of her stomach – nothing which will cause her any problems as she grows up. Her front appears much worse than it really is, but most of that is simply bruising. Naomi will have a long, hard recovery, but she will recover."

Cassie, Natasha, and Alexandra were all appalled by what they were hearing.

* * *

 ** _14:20_**

"I cannot believe any of this."

"Cassie, honey," Natasha reassured her friend. "Naomi will be back to her usual obnoxious self before you know it."

"How could I have let this happen – I was right there."

"Don't you dare do that, Cassandra!" Alexandra told her daughter. "Naomi knew exactly what she was getting into. You had no reason to think that it would not have been just like any other night."

"She knew the risks – and she took plenty of her own," Natasha agreed.

"But she is my daughter and I should. . ."

Cassie descended back into sobbing. Natasha looked over at Alexandra who simply shook her head. Blake had observed the conversation and he felt for Cassie. He had seen Keira come apart over Harper – he also knew that Keira was still struggling with the increasingly obnoxious Harper during the girl's lengthy recovery. It was not only Naomi suffering, but it was also everybody around her as well. He knew that while Naomi was not yet out of the woods, she would recover fully. Unlike many children her age, Naomi did not spend all her day eating junk food and fiddling with a phone or tablet before slipping into bed. Instead, Naomi spent many hours exercising, keeping her body trim and fit. It was that enhanced fitness which had kept the youngster alive during some intensive and invasive surgery. The girl had not regained consciousness since the attack, and the sedation would be continued for most of that week. There was no need for Cassie to tear herself apart.

"Take her home," Blake ordered. "Naomi is not waking up anytime soon and she is in the very best of hands. I will make sure to let you know if her condition changes. Now, go!"


End file.
